Love Like Ghosts
by morrowinds
Summary: Sakura was not naive. She was not an idiot. Fumbling through the dark was not key to her methods. But Kakashi was a sort of darkness she'd never come to face. Now, she didn't have a choice. KakaSaku fic, rated M for later chapters.
1. Like the Dawn

**A/N: Hello and thank you for choosing to read! This is my _first ever_ fanfiction, so please bear with me as I write this as I'm entirely new to this style of writing. I apologize in advance if any of the dialogue or interactions are stiff or seem rushed - the first chapter is notably the most difficult, but I have a lot planned for the future and things will most certainly loosen up and flow more freely as we progress. As a side note, each chapter takes its title from a particular song that I feel fits the general theme of the current event; accompanying this are song lyrics to kick off each chapter.**

 **Enough rambling - enjoy!**

 _you will surely be the death of me,_

 _but how could i have known?_

Sakura's hospital shifts for the day were few and far, granting her the opportunity to slip out early before her mentor assigned her more duties. It wasn't that she hated work - truthfully, she loved her job, and being a medic (one of the top ones in Konoha, mind you) certainly had a limitless amount of benefits. It was a selfless thing, one she carried with pride, though a break was a necessity after working 12 hour shifts 6 days in the week. Of course, Sakura's luck was predictable at best, and it was as she was about to step out that Tsunade appeared from around the corner. "Sakura!" she barked, her features sharp and stern as she fixed the girl with a stare. Sakura straightened her posture and turned to face the woman, greeting her with a small bow before meeting her honey gaze. "Yes, m'lady?" Polite as always. _Or a kiss-ass._ She wrinkled her nose distastefully and mentally chided her inner conscience, though quickly recovered with the finesse of... well, something less-than-graceful. _Idiot!_ Tsunade regarded her coolly for a few more moments, only momentarily perturbed by the disturbance of emotions that crossed the girl's features, before raising a finger to point at her student, tilting her chin at an incline as she spoke. "I have a mission for you, undercover and outside of Konoha. Meet me in my office for more." A mission? Involving her? Confusion flitted across her features momentarily, but she knew better than to question the decisions made by their Hokage, so she instead gave another bow and turned to leave. This was not without incident - why would anything be superficially easy? - and she was stopped again by Tsunade's commanding voice. "Oh," she added, tone raising a bit to emphasize that she was not finished. "And go find Kakashi. You'll be working together." With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared back the way she had come, leaving a befuddled Sakura to ponder what the hell kind of mission would require the both of them.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

The weather was particularly sweet given the time of year - summer had only recently turned to autumn, and the shift in season brought with it a familiar chill in the air. Thankfully, the sun had opted to power through and gift Konoha with its light and warmth, radiating through to the souls of those who worked themselves to the bone. Kakashi may have been considered one of those people - devoted to his work, certainly - but his perceived laziness often tarnished his name. Sure, he enjoyed lounging, and while much of his time was spent at the memorial stone, a lot of it was dedicated to... being lazy. The noose was tied around his neck with that one. Even still, the Hatake name was renowned in all the lands - the copy ninja was not to be taken lightly. If only his students were familiar with it.

He was content to lounge in the tree, nestled amidst the cluster of branches and invisible to the prying eyes of Konoha's finest; of course, peace and quiet never came without a cost, and it wasn't long before his muted tranquility was interrupted by a voice. Her voice. "Kakashi-sensei!" she called up towards him, her tone a mixture of irritation and impatience. _Uh oh._ His charcoal eyes flitted from the page of his book to her distant figure - both hands were on her hips, and she fixed him with an agitated stare.

"Did someone steal your bike, Sakura-chan?" he asked nonchalantly, turning a page in Icha Icha and skimming his gaze across the etchings of ink before him.

"Not funny, old man! Get down here!"

 _Defeated once more._ Heaving a sigh from the depths of his chest, he snapped his book shut and tucked it into his waistband before leaping down from the branch, landing neatly before her with both hands buried in his pockets.

"Do you need something? I was having a great nap."

"You were reading those books, you damned pervert. Tsunade summoned us."

Tsunade? Surprise etched itself to his face momentarily before erasing itself clean with the coming of a smile, punctuated by his trademark eye-crinkle. "We can walk together, if you don't mind," he offered, tilting his head back and glancing at the sky. Overcast, grey. A sullen matte of clouds hung precariously on invisible threads, threatening to unleash their wrath in the form of heavy rain. Whatever Tsunade wanted, he only hoped it was something indoors. _'A little rain never hurt anyone,'_ quipped the workings of his mind, and he bit back a scowl at the thought. _'Maybe not, but it'd hurt my hair.'_ Sakura would have laughed humorlessly had she overheard - thankfully, she didn't, and instead took to replying to his first string of words. "Sounds lovely," she returned, only a hint of sarcasm lining each syllable while a gentle smile tugged at her lips. Drawing that smile out was his only goal, really, and his own widened almost sheepishly as they both turned and began their leisure stroll back to the Hokage's office.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As excited as she was, it was amazing that she was able to form coherent sentences with the silver-haired ninja, let alone find herself capable of drilling him with her usual temper. To her surprise, his mood was a bit more... chipper. Perhaps it was the weather. Perhaps he was just as eager to get out as she was. Either way, she didn't mind - catching the copy-nin at all was rare, and catching him in high spirits? Forget about it. Her eyes gave a sideways glance towards him as they walked, assessing the bits of his face he allowed to the world and filling in the puzzle as her gaze made its way down to his neck. Time had changed him, as had loss, and while he outwardly did not show it, she could read it in the lines of his features. Sakura's intuitive nature was something he had cursed once upon a time - only half-joking, of course. "Kakashi?" she inquired after a stretch of silence, bringing her eyes back to his face. He returned with a look of his own, lips upturning into a smile and eyes crinkling to follow. "Yes, Sakura?" Damn him. Her own lips formed a temporary pout as she debated whether or not to continue, but the latter of her mind won out and she proceeded nonetheless. "When was your last mission?" Her voice was light, gentle, and she tried to maintain it at a level of genuine curiosity versus the nosiness that would usually plague someone like Naruto. His hand came up to scratch at the back of his head, chin tilted in thought, and he turned to her with another small smile. "I believe it was about three weeks ago. I had injured my arm during a fight." How the hell had she forgotten? She was the one who healed him! Embarrassment tainted her features for but a moment, skin flushing pink with a rush of blood, and she turned her head and continued to march towards the Hokage's office, muttering incoherently as she moved away from him. He, however, was left to stare after her, bewildered at what could have triggered her this time.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura had grown significantly in the last decade since he had met her - she was now twenty three and a beautiful young adult. Just as the name given to her had predicted, she had blossomed into a flower through the years, all of it right before the eyes of her teacher. _'Ex-teacher,'_ he bitterly reminded himself, though it eased his misgivings and granted him the chance to study her once more as they ascended the stairs in relative silence. Four years ago, he'd noticed the shift, the change in who she was internally and externally, and while he knew not what it meant at the time, it was coming clear each and every day. Beautiful didn't begin to summarize what she had become. Maybe he _was_ an old pervert.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 _Dull was the evening and dreary was the sky as the conglomerate of team seven finished their meals at one of the Leaf Village's finer restaraunts - much to Naruto's dismay, of course, but Sakura insisted that they go somewhere nice and Kakashi insisted that he treat them. He was already regretting it; God, that boy could eat. His misgivings between Naruto's stomach and his wallet were tossed aside, though, and the meal was rather pleasurable as they enjoyed each other's company. Sakura gushed over Sasuke - what else was new? - and he, per usual, merely brushed her off. Naruto, oblivious as always, blissfully inhaled his dinner, though Kakashi felt... Different. It was his norm to disregard the banter, to allow them to work it out, but somewhere along the way, his head and his heart stopped communicating and he was forced to observe through a different sort of lens. She was crestfallen when he took a jab at her forehead, a particular soft-spot that Ino had aimed for through the years, and while it wasn't in Kakashi's nature to step in, he felt anger curling tightly around his throat like a vice._

 _"Thanks for the food!" Naruto cheered, both hands planted firmly on his swollen stomach as he hobbled out. Sasuke merely clicked his tongue, regarding Kakashi with a curt nod, and followed suit with the blonde haired boy._

 _That left two people - Konoha's pink haired medic, and the silver haired copy-nin. "I'd better get going, too," she admitted, lips curving into a delicate smile as she peered up towards him before turning and taking a step towards the door. It was now or never, wasn't it? "Sakura, wait," he cautioned quietly, advancing forward in a flash and hooking his fingers around her wrist to stop her from leaving. She turned to meet his stare, clearly bewildered with whatever was so urgent, and Kakashi found himself choking on the words as his brain sputtered to rationalize why the hell he cared. "You can do better," he chided, his voice stern and thick with anger towards the raven haired Uchiha. Everything within him screamed to go home - who was he to get involved with the petty affairs of teenagers? Did it matter when one of the two was Sakura? His grip on her wrist tightened, if only a fraction, and he stared down at her with millions of emotions swimming through his charcoal eyes. "Kakashi, I don't th-" she began, her voice quavering with hesitation, though before she could finish, he was gone; the only telltale sign of his prior existence was the puff of smoke that had consumed his previous position. Her flesh burned from where his had made contact, and she absentmindedly rubbed the skin as though the sensation could be wiped away. If only. The trek home gave her the time to ponder, though the strange pit in her stomach rang like an alarm bell as she pushed through the door and began her shuffle back to her apartment._

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The halt in her footsteps announced their arrival at their destination, and Sakura's knuckles rapped lightly three times against the thick wooden door. She was nervous. Her stomach churned endlessly to attest to the fact, and her fingers fiddled with a loose string on her shirt. Anything undercover meant the possibility of messing up, right? And she was good at that. Or she used to be. But what if she still was? Her mind cranked a mile a minute to fill her small body with doubts til the voice of reason broke through, manifested in the form of a smooth timbre that was comfortably calming. "Relax, Sakura," he crooned, creasing his eyes with a reassuring smile. "We've worked together for years. This isn't something new. You'll do fine no matter what it is." She averted her gaze from his and fixed it on her feet, murmuring out a quiet "thank you" before Tsunade chimed in from behind the door.

"Enter."


	2. Excuses

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites - I really appreciate the support and feedback! As a side note, certain characters remain in existence and Tsunade is the current hokage. This next chapter was intended to be merged with the following, but it got too large and I decided they each needed their own chapters. So here they are! Enjoy :).**

 _running out of excuses_

 _when we know what the truth is:_

 _i'm into you, i'm into you._

"Good afternoon, you two," greeted the hokage as both Sakura and Kakashi stepped beyond the doors into her office. The area was spacious, familiar, but still held the same aura of intimidation it always had - and always would, quite frankly. Being Tsunade's apprentice only took some of the edge off of Sakura's frazzled nerves. _'Is it her you're scared of, or him?'_ jeered the tune of her conscience, and she mentally kicked herself before forcing a smile to her face. "Good afternoon," she replied with hopefully the same breezy confidence that Kakashi always managed to pull off flawlessly. _'Right.'_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He'd have been lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to whatever was in store for them. When Sakura interrogated him on his previous whereabouts, he was mostly half-honest - it was true he hadn't been on a mission in three weeks, but an injury to the arm was not preventative in the situation. His nightmares had been gradually leaking through the protective barrier in his mind, first sparingly and then all at once. The faces of his lost comrades haunted him each evening, accusatory and full of hate, and it left the copy-nin without proper sleep and without the motivation to do much else. He was in a slump, for lack of a better word, and had been avoiding missions - and people - as a result. But Tsunade was evidently aware of this. That had to be why she targeted him, right? His eyes would have rolled back in his skull at the irony if not for the fear he felt at the hokage's wrath. Instead, he followed Sakura's motions with a slow blink of his single visible eye and jerked his chin slightly towards Tsunade's direction. "Hokage-sama," acknowledged the timbre of his voice, monotonous in nature per his usual norm. Of course. "Reporting in for the mission you spoke of," he continued, hands deftly pushing into his pockets and fingers curling into each palm. His body remained still as stone otherwise, and only occasionally did he spare a glance down towards Sakura.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Years of training and putting up with the shenanigans Naruto came up with had taught Sakura to uphold limitless patience, so as Tsunade's gaze flickered between the two shinobi before her, she only distantly found herself urging the hokage to speak. Standing in a stalemate was not what she came here for. As though being able to read her thoughts, the woman finally spoke, eyes narrowing dangerously as she leaned forward and folded her hands together on the desk. "There is a city known as Tawasaki on the edge of the Land of Flowers," she began, fingers pressing to a tee and chin resting gently atop the makeshift platform. "A wealthy man there is renowned for his business endeavors, but much of his wealth comes from drug distribution. Nothing new, really." Sakura's eyes widened a smidgen, and she curled her hands into nervous fists. "A drug kingpin?" she questioned, hesitation evident in each syllable. Why were they meddling in the affairs of drugs? Shinobi maintained their distance from problems of that brand - why get involved?

Tsunade cleared her throat, capturing Saukra's focus once more and fixing her with a sharp stare. "That's right, but the drugs are not the problem. Much of his competition have been dying off - literally, in fact. Dealers go missing for weeks at a time, and then an obituary appears. The problem is bringing a bad name to the Land of Flowers; one of the higher-ranked council members has requested that we investigate. Out of town, won't be recognized. You know the drill." She waved her hand dismissively and straightened her posture, raising a finger and pointing between the two. "You'll both be attending a masquerade party held within the heart of the city. Don't forget, you'll be undercover. Do not address each other by your actual names in public. You'll be required to ask around and find the man in question. Sakura, get him alone. Kakashi, enforce back up. The rest is in your hands."

It took a moment for the information to register with them both; the silence was nearly broken by the sound of their brains cranking ceaselessly to understand the situation, to formulate a plan around what was expected of them. It didn't sound difficult, but everything always had a catch and they were certain this was no exception. Tsunade set her mouth to a stern line and bobbed her head to them each, turning her focus back to the paperwork on her desk. "Dismissed," she stated simply, emphasizing the fact with another wave of her hand.

No time was wasted in the departure, and they both were quick to use the body flicker and disappear from the hokage's sights, leaving her to lean back and crack a rare smile at where the two ninja once stood.

"This ought to be fun."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura was back at her apartment in a matter of seconds, absorbing the familiar sights and smells while her body adjusted to the sudden lapse in time. The mission was a change of pace, something she'd done many times before, but never under the same set circumstances. So they were to go undercover. So they were to pry answers from the jaws of whomever had been raising hell. So they were to do so together. So what? So _what?_ Frustration bubbled just beneath the surface of her patient mind, whispering its tantalizing poison into her ears and fueling the flame that flickered in her stomach. Damn it all. Why not assign Kurenai with Kakashi? Kurenai was renowned for her genjutsu talents, and she was doubtlessly one of the most beautiful women in the village. Would she have not been better suited? Tsunade had picked Sakura for a reason, and knowledge of such crept along the back of her spine like a million spiders. She was an evil woman indeed. Clenching her teeth irritably, she moved through her home and towards the kitchen, going through the motions of rummaging through her cupboards for a cup before turning the sink on. The water provided her with relaxing background noise, a soft gush of a tiny waterfall as the stream of droplets fell gently to the surface below. It wasn't that she didn't want to go - a mission was a mission, and she had rent to pay. It was the thought of being alone with Kakashi for a month - maybe more - that set her nerves aflame and pinched at her confidence. She wasn't oblivious to the looks he gave her, and certainly wasn't ignorant to the soft undertone of his voice. How could she be? Their relationship had always held a strange dynamic, one unique only to them, and as she blossomed into adulthood, she grew far more aware of each and every little detail. They were no longer student-and-teacher, but equals. Peers. Friends, comrades. A man. A woman. Did any of it matter? Her hypersensitivity seemed to think so. The part of her that brushed it off hardly outweighed the part that actually liked it, the part that quietly encouraged his advances while pushing the thought of Sasuke aside. _Sasuke._ Her fingers curled into another angry fist, nails biting harshly into the palm of her flesh, and she quickly snapped back to reality and filled the cup in her hands before shutting the tap off and downing the water with one chugging motion. Men were foolish creatures, fickle beasts at the mercy of crude decisions, and likely the least of her worries. No, definitely. Her shoulders lifted in a tiny shrug and she placed the glass in the sink, turning and shuffling down the hall and towards her bedroom. Packing for the mission would be tedious, but an early start would lessen the load. Right?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Only a nanosecond had passed before Kakashi was back in the tree he had left behind, perched precariously atop one of the thicker branches with one eye flitting carefully over the span of land below him. Regrets dawned upon his mind like a plague, blackening each recess of rational thought til hesitation was all he knew, all he was. It was a rare moment of weakness, one that passed just as quickly as it had come, but enough to plant a seed of worry in the back of his brain. Quickly came a new wave of confidence, set to replace the previous emotion, and he blinked lazily before lowering to a sit and leaning back against the trunk of the tree. He certainly needed the exercise, and their destination was a two-day walk - dancing with his demons couldn't last forever, after all. One hand lifted slowly, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose, and he expelled a quiet breath from his lungs as the thoughts filtered through his mind. Sakura was the only bright part of the mission, really. The rest was just a money benefit. His hand slid down his face and trailed towards his waistband, fingers neatly tucking down and curling around the outer edge of Icha Icha. A bit of reading would take his mind off of it, and soon he'd go home and prepare a bag for what lay ahead. It was a good plan, or would have been had yet another disturbance not interrupted his thoughts. The approaching chakra signature was far too familiar, and as it came near, he felt every part of himself groan in protest. _'I need a new hiding spot,'_ chimed the bitter tune of his thoughts, though he instead turned his focus and found his gaze locked upon none other than his favorite senbon-wielding friend.

"Bar. Tonight. Be my wingman," ordered Genma, the makings of a smirk curving slyly along the edge of his mouth as he fixed Kakashi with a bold stare. Confident fucker, he was. Kakashi paused a moment, stretching the silence as to ponder his answer - truthfully, it was moreso to watch Genma squirm with impatience - before uncurling his tongue and dragging his eye back towards his friend's face. "You're paying," he cautioned in return, though it was as much agreement as the copy-nin could give, and Genma simply beamed with mock innocence before disappearing in a plume of smoke.

It seemed Leaf ninja of all genders were intent on dragging him down.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A quiet melody thrummed its gentle tune from Sakura's lungs as she hummed to herself, hands keeping busy folding clothes while her mind preoccupied with things a bit more distant. She'd been at it for an hour, rifling through the contents of her belongings before pairing together outfits - including one for the masquerade - and throwing other necessities into her bag. It didn't take much - the task was thoughtless by now, mundane and second-nature, but the same relief flooded her veins as she stepped back and clapped her hands together. "Finished," she confirmed with a nod of her chin, proud of her hard work and eager to relax for the rest of the evening. Read a book, study her notes, maybe clean her apartment a little, or perhaps- she jolted from her train of thought as a loud knock resonated through her apartment, its key source seemingly the front door. She wasn't expecting company - at least not that she could remember - and she remained wary as she approached the door and glanced out the peephole. Naruto. Of course.

A smile fixed itself to her face and she tugged the door open with a twist of the knob, immediately greeted by a smiling face and an exclamation of "Sakura!" He reminded her of a ray of sunshine, constantly bright and warm, and she couldn't prevent her own smile from tugging at her lips. "What's up? I can't afford to feed you right now," she replied sheepishly, though it was merely a teasing jab at the boy. He folded his arms together and granted her with a mock pout before suddenly remembering why he had come. "Oh!" he continued, features perking up while he shifted his weight to the other leg. "We're going to celebrate Shikamaru's engagement tonight. You should come." Like a fool, she'd forgotten that Shikamaru had finally proposed to Temari, and she mentally cursed herself for the lapse in memory. Even so, a chance to get out didn't sound too bad; it meant cancelling her previous plans, but she hadn't seen her old friends in a while due to her hectic hospital shifts. Maybe it'd be a good thing. "I'd love to. What time?" she agreed, and Naruto was immediate in his response. "8 sharp! They'll be happy to see you, Sakura," he said, trailing into something a bit more gentle to match the softening of his features. For all of his flaws and faults, he was a genuinely good person. "It'll be nice. I'll see you then, Naruto," returned the tune of her voice, chipper and light to match his, and he flashed her another bright smile before turning and hopping back down the stairs.

The door shut with a soft 'click' and she leaned back against it, staring up at the ceiling while her chest warmed at the notion of what lay ahead. She missed her friends. She missed Naruto, too. Fate had played its hand in granting her busy life a break, and only as a bonus would it distract her from the troublesome workings of Kakashi-related confusion clouding her head. She couldn't wait.


	3. Midnight Hour

_trade up, trade up, you know you should_

 _trade up, he's looking so damn good_

Day fell to night rather quickly; time seemed to disregard the shinobi of the Leaf as their schedules dictated an evening collapse. It wasn't a bad thing - many out on missions had earned several hours of rest, and others with particular plans were given the opportunity to advance. A win-win, without a doubt. Sakura stood outside the bar with one hand on the door handle and the other tapping nervously against the top of her thigh. It had been so long since she'd been to a social gathering, she wasn't sure what to say. Would conversation come naturally, like it had back in their genin days? Or would the grips of adulthood choke all traces of ease from their throats? Whichever it was, a risk had to be taken - with a sharp inhale filling her lungs, she pulled the door open and stepped into the dimly-lit building, immediately reduced to a genuine smile as the voices of her companions called her name. Her doubts were already forgotten, erased entirely, and she made her way towards their table with the same confidence she carried all her life.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So, Genma," drawled Kakashi, quirking a brow as he glanced at his friend. "What exactly are we here for?" A smile graced the senbon-user's face and he clapped Kakashi on the back, leaning towards his ear and murmuring quietly, "Women, my friend. You know how it goes." A hiccup followed the words, and then a haughty cackle, and Kakashi fought his own smile as he tilted the glass in his hands. His eyes were mesmerized by the swirling of alcohol, so much so that he hadn't noticed the newest arrival to the tavern til her name fell from the lips of their neighbors. _Sakura._ Fate really was cruel. He snapped his stare to her figure, this time absorbed by the aura surrounding her, and took to studying her for one fleeting moment before Genma interrupted once more. Pest. "If I go talk to that one," he began, gesturing to none other than Ino with a veiled motion of his hand. "You'll join me. Don't send me to the wolves, Kakashi." Humor laced his tone, per usual, and Kakashi spared a quick glance at the company Ino held. There was a good majority of her generation, her old classmates, crammed into one table, with extra chairs pulled up and several bottles of sake dotting the surface area. All of team 7 had attended, he noticed, as had most of the other teams. Was there a special occasion? "Why her?" he questioned, turning his single eye back towards Genma and clicking his teeth to follow. "Why not? Have you seen her? She's been legal for years, my friend. Tsunade can't kill me." Boisterous as always. And arrogant. But it gave him an excuse to investigate the cause of their get-together and to speak with his favorite ex-student. With all caution thrown to the wind, he tilted back his head and downed the alcohol in his glass before setting it back down sharply and rising to his feet. "Don't embarrass yourself, Genma." His words received an irritable glare and he chuckled under his breath, tucking his hands into his pockets and following his friend through the throng of people and towards their goal.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She was satisfied with sitting among her friends, moreso nestled between Naruto and Sasuke, and already she could feel the burn of alcohol as it singed the back of her throat and churned in her stomach. Everyone was happy, for each other and for Shikamaru - the man of honor certainly didn't hear the end of it from his peers, and he spent most of the evening rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Sakura," pitched Ino, raising an accusatory finger to point at the pink-haired woman. "You never spend any time with us anymore. Where the hell have you been?" Uh oh. Despite their misgivings, they'd grown to be best friends, and it was a friendship Sakura cherished dearly. Hearing the blonde's tone, only half-playful, sent a wave of guilt through her stomach. "I've been at the hospital, Ino," she returned apologetically, though a teasing smile graced her features as she spoke. "I take far more shifts than you do, after all." Mock offense crossed the opposite's expression and she reached out to swat at her friend, doling out punishment for the insinuated insult, though her wrist was caught before she could perform the act. What the hell? Both pairs of eyes shifted up to meet whatever had interrupted their banter, and the breath caught in their throats as the source was found. "Now, now," crooned Genma, fixing Ino with a crooked smile unique only to him. "Don't hit your friends, little lady."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Excuse me?" questioned Ino, eyes narrowing dangerously upon the face of the older man. Where the hell had he come from? He merely broadened his smile and redirected her hand towards his lips, where he placed a gentle kiss on top of the knuckles. "Genma, though I'm sure you already knew that. And you're Ino Yamanaka." If Sakura knew anything about Ino, it was her temper - she had her promiscuous days, but that didn't mean she took lightly to being treated like someone's toy. She quickly snatched her hand away and set a scowl to her face, standing and jabbing him in the chest with one finger. "I don't care who you are, Genma," she sneered, placing both hands on her hips defiantly. Sakura's eyes rolled dramatically as their argument began; Genma on the defense, attempting to still entrance the blonde, while Ino refuted each thing he said with fire similar to the pits of Hell. It wasn't worth listening to, and most of their friends seemed to think so too as they turned back towards their previous conversations and all but ignored the bickering duo.

Sakura followed suit and turned her cheek to Sasuke, fingers tracing the rim of her glass while her other hand held it in place. "This is fun," she admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips. "It's good to see you again." Years and years of repetition had given her a steady rhythm to follow - she would be nice, her veins would heat with the warmth of anticipation, he would brush her off, and dejection would stain her spirits. It was a cycle she had grown accustomed to, and so when his expression remained empty as always and he opened his mouth to speak, to grant her with one word, if that, she braced herself for the callousness to come. But it didn't. Instead, one hand snaked its way to her shoulder while the other propped itself against the back of Sasuke's chair. Was it touch-people-for-free night at the bar? Did she miss the memo? Her own temper flared quickly in her chest before being halted entirely; the fingers on her shoulder gave a gentle squeeze and the lighthearted baritone of a familiar voice echoed from behind her.

"Fancy seeing you here - quite the celebration, too."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

While Genma remained intent on gathering his prey, Kakashi decided it was a good time to go to the bathroom - much to Genma's dismay, however, but he couldn't argue against a full bladder. When Kakashi had returned, he noticed first Genma's failure - Ino was eating him alive, and secretly, he was proud - and then his gaze fell to the reason he had followed. Her expression seemed happy, though not genuinely. The polite sort. The kind of friendliness given when walking on broken glass. The dull buzz in his head faded for just a moment, replaced only by the swirling pit in his abdomen, and he wasted little time in closing the gap between them and making his presence known.

He was met with two looks, one confused and the other devoid of all emotion, and he gave them both a smile - the rest of the table took notice and greeted him a bit more appropriately. "Kakashi-sensei!" shouted Naruto despite being seated directly next to Sakura. Loud, as always. The rest followed with something more similar. His hand fell from Sakura's shoulder but the other stayed rooted in place, stiff as a statue behind Sasuke's head. Somewhere deep inside, he prayed it made him uneasy. "How has your training been going, Naruto?" he asked the blonde boy, sweeping his eyes over his body with one quick glance. He had grown a lot over the years. "It's, uh.. kinda slow," he replied sheepishly, scratching the back of his head to emphasize it. "We'll have to spar sometime," Kakashi suggested in reply, hopeful to give both of them an outlet to lash out at. Him more than Naruto, probably. His features perked immediately and he nodded his head, fingers clenching tightly around the glass in his hand. "That'd be great! I'll finally kick your ass," he shot in return, and Kakashi simply smiled once more at the notion. It wasn't far from the truth.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Genma's arrival was bad enough, but Kakashi's only intensified the situation. Of course, he paid no mind to the trouble his friend was in and instead immediately honed onto their group. Of course. Sakura's gaze flitted sideways to assess Sasuke, and she caught him staring down at his glass with a perplexed expression. Unreadable as always, but a step forward. Her brows knit together and she turned to glance at Kakashi, one arm propping over the back of her chair. "What are you doing here, Kakashi?" she asked, forcing her features into something brighter and flashing him a grin. "It's rare of you to associate with the general public."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When she spoke, his attention was immediately drawn forward, and Naruto was pushed to the back of his mind. Surely he didn't notice - not with all that he'd been drinking - and he felt no guilt over abandoning the conversation as Sakura's words drifted through his ears. He smirked and leaned back, jerking his thumb towards Genma in a gesture that spoke volumes. "Take a guess," he replied dryly, though his voice smoothed over just as quickly as he continued. "Enjoying the view is just a bonus." If it was too forward, she didn't either didn't notice or didn't care, and his smile widened as her own graced her features. "Old pervert," she snapped at him, though her smile had yet to fade and the slight pink shade in her face was enough to nip at his interest.

Any thoughts of pursuing it were broken as his gaze fell to Sasuke's face - his expression, a studious type of irritation, cut to the core of his being and gave him enough time to pause the ministrations of his foolish tongue. Always in a bad mood, but whatever triggered it this time, he had no idea. Furrowing his brows, he turned his attention to Genma for the first time throughout the entire ordeal and found the man had gained some relief; Ino had stopped yelling at him and they'd fallen into quiet conversation, with Genma at the helm and Ino listening with thin patience lest he screw up again. That girl was an enigma, without a doubt. He shook his head slightly and turned back to Sakura, peering silently into the depths of her eyes. "What are _you_ doing here?" he inquired in return, inclining his chin to the rest of the table as well. "All of you, actually."

Sakura's expression brightened and she tapped her fingers idly to the back of her chair, diverting her eyes from him to scan their group before directing a gaze back to his face. "Shikamaru and Temari are engaged. We're celebrating!" She couldn't restrain the excitement from her snaking its way into her words; she really was happy for them, even if a pang of envy stabbed deep within her gut. But it was a selfish feeling, and her joy at seeing them finally step forward suffocated it before it could grow. Kakashi nodded his understanding, sliding his one eye towards the man in question. "Ah," he remarked, expression lightening with the new knowledge. He'd have to remember to send his regards to the Nara boy in the near future. "Certainly a good reason. Mind if I stick around?" Hanging out with a younger group likely made him look like a fool, but there was enough entertainment in talking to his old students that kept him hooked, and it was clear Genma would be here a while. Why leave prematurely? He'd be alone. The pinkette nodded in reply and he pulled out a chair from the table behind them, positioning it beside her and Naruto and lowering himself into the wooden seat. As soon as he was settled, he turned to Sakura and gave her another wicked smile, both hands propped behind his head as he leaned back. "So, eager for that mission?"

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The night had progressed at a slow crawl, inching by with each tick of the clock til midnight was upon the gathered group. Much of the evening was spent locked in light conversation, and only a few times did Kakashi push his luck; once to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and secondly when he dropped a napkin and his fingers skimmed the flesh of her thigh upon retrieval. Throwing back sake for several hours had numbed her senses, thankfully, and she blissfully dubbed the actions as either normal or alcohol-influenced - and he certainly was not free of the buzzing clutch of his many drinks. He had departed from the scene an hour prior to the present, regarding Sakura with a caution to not be late tomorrow. In return, she swatted at him, and he disappeared just as quickly as he had come. Left milling about was Sasuke, Sakura, Naruto, Kiba, Hinata, and Tenten - Shikamaru had gone home long before, and many had trickled out to follow, but the rest enjoyed each other's company enough to stick around. It wasn't long before they all had agreed to wrap things up, splitting the tab and shuffling towards the door in a symphony of bubbly laughter and muffled conversation.

"I'll see you guys later!" Sakura bade to them all, giving Naruto's arm a gentle squeeze as he departed one way with the rest and she went the other on her own. The walk wasn't far, and the moon provided enough lighting to guide her there. Silence met her ears as she walked, each footstep resonating quietly from below, and she watched each advancing pace with vague interest in the action. The evening had been eventful, and was without a doubt more enjoyable than she anticipated, though Kakashi's arrival was a smudge on the surface that had taken her entirely off guard. It had to be Genma that kept him hanging around, as was obvious until he left with Ino, but still, Kakashi stayed. Why? Her mind swam in circles in an attempt to conjure the answer through an alcohol-induced haze, each thought slow to surface and processed with difficulty, before she was brought to halt in place by a noise to her west.

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He had intended to go home, truthfully. He promised himself he'd pack and would have hated to delay it any further, but something else drew him away from his obligations and towards personal matters. Why? Why now? His nightmares had come alive, this time plaguing him as he browsed the streets of Konoha, and he fought the urge to gouge his eyes out as his limbs carried him to the memorial stone. The night was still, uncomfortably soundless, and he gazed down at the obsidian-colored structure with an empty stare. Their names stared back, a muted taunt, a torturous jeer. God damnit. He clenched his fists and bowed his head and remained as such for a long time - long enough for his ears to capture footsteps on the nearby road and for his overworked mind to think of his next maneuver long before he could object to it.

Thenceforth he found himself cloaked in a shadowy embrace, both eyes locked steadily onto Sakura as she perused forward on her way home. Alone. The suffocating silence of the evening had suddenly become his ally, and the wind brought with it enticing whispers to float through his mind. Before he could stop himself, her name had left his lips, and she turned wide-eyed to meet the intensity of his expression.

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"Sakura," beckoned a voice from the shadows, deep and carnal and tantalizing. The vibration of it sent a shiver crawling up the length of her spine, and she partially turned to regard whom it had come from with a slow sweep of her eyes. _Kakashi._ She swallowed back the lump in her throat and merely eyed him from her position, not once daring to move lest the animal before her decide he was hungry.

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One leg moved, and then the other, til he was advancing at a slow pace towards the pinkette just ahead; his chin was ducked and both of his eyes were locked to her physique. The sharingan burned viciously as it memorized each miniscule detail and each tiny movement of her chest, in sync with the increase of her heartbeat. God, how had he fought himself this long? As deadly as a lion, he continued the agonizing stroll towards her til he was mere feet from her, and it was then that he paused, taking a few spare moments to study her from the new angle. Soft features paired with bright teal eyes, teeth nibbling gently on the rosy-colored flesh of her lower lip. One brow arched curiously, the other settled in place. Bones that could cut through diamond, bones he wanted to trace with his fingers til they shook beneath his grasp. Sasuke was a fool to disregard the piece of art in front of him, and he was a fool to want it. But God, did he have a choice? With the way she trembled before him, his mind seemed to think not. His tongue slid out to drag along his own bottom lip, a steady trail drawn out before sliding back inwards. She was unbelievable.

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For a single moment in the thread of time, he found the ability to compose himself and fall back into place before he did something he would have certainly regretted. Clearing his throat, he stepped back and fixed a soft smile to his face, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. "Care for some company?" he asked nonchalantly, though he was certain they were beyond being casual given the scare he'd issued just moments prior. To his surprise, however, she did not decline - not quite, at least. Her features morphed to a hard glare and she smacked one hand against his chest, turning her cheek with a huff. "You scared the life out of me, you know? You can't just go creeping through the darkness like that," she chastised angrily, though even she couldn't stay mad at her ex-sensei. He looked more akin to a puppy, a lopsided grin touching his features and his head cocked sideways in the slightest. He was a goddamn fool. Sighing loudly, she nodded her head and proceeded forward, gesturing to him with a wave of her hand. "You'll follow me anyways, so go ahead."

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He'd have remarked about her foul mood, though recollection on why exactly it was foul came clear as day as she began to trek ahead of him. She was right, after all, and he mentally cursed his mistake before trailing along behind her. It didn't take long til they were side by side once more, and this time he pried for something a bit more gentle - something that wouldn't get him killed, like creeping up on her. "It was good to see Naruto and Sasuke again," he commented after a pause of silence, and she quickly brightened up and gave him a soft smile. "It was," she murmured, eyes trailing down to the road once more. "They've grown so much. I feel like I'm missing all of it." At this, her foot scuffed at the ground irritably, and a fond smile tugged at the edges of his lips. "You're not missing much, and the hospital keeps you busy. They were happy to have you there." There was no arguing with it; the logic was definitely there, but it didn't quite touch the rest of her heart. Rather than dwelling, she turned to him and blinked, tilting her head back with a coy grin tainting her expression. "It was good to see you, too. I was feeling a little left out at first, but you kept me company. Thank you." Sincerity shone through both of her eyes and her veins flooded with warmth as they were caught in each other's gazes. Somehow, there was more truth to her words than either of them knew - when he originally showed up, she felt her heart catch in her throat. Sasuke was all but forgotten as they talked through the evening, and she was genuinely glad to have had him there. Expressing it was a bit more difficult. He chuckled quietly and shook his head, fixing her with a studious arch of his brow. "Enjoyed spending time with me, Sakura-chan? I'm flattered." Her cheeks flushed a pink shade and she turned her head away from him, teeth nibbling gently on her lower lip. "Shut it, old man," she muttered, though the touch of humor had yet to fade.

Both sidled to a pause as her apartment came into view, and she turned to him with a bashful quirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Regretfully, this is where I live," she uttered quietly, gesturing to the building with one hand. "That it is," he replied simply, inclining his chin and analyzing her through guarded eyes. All of the feelings he'd managed to bottle up came tumbling out like a sea of monsters, drowning out rational thought and filling his mind with picturesque images of all the possibilities that lay ahead. Factually, only one stood out, alluring him to it like a beacon, and he stepped forward before the chance to protest could come.

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Whatever his intentions had originally been were completely lost on her as he made his move; she watched in relative silence as he shifted, caught in his gaze and unable to look away. Was this a side-effect of the alcohol, too? This wasn't his normal behavior, though the same went for her reaction - she did nothing to stop him, made no move to object, and merely remained rooted in place as he grew closer. Whatever dynamic had currently found them, they were left at its mercy, forced into a ceaseless spin of blurred emotions and ambiguous ideals. She didn't know what to make of it. She didn't know what to do. Another swallow of air, another moment to think, _think_. He was finally upon her, a hair's length away, but his movements had stilled and he took to analyzing her face. Her fingers plucked nervously at the hem of her shirt and she allowed her eyes to travel across his face, down the sharp outcropping of his nose, across the expanse of his jaw, down to his neck and back up again. Her eyes locked with his for several long moments, a stare filled with the warmth of something beyond recognition, and she knew she was doomed from the start.

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It was true that he had been entirely enraptured by whatever fantasy his mind had cooked him, and he'd fallen victim to a lapse in self-control that he was currently fighting to regain. It wasn't a question of capability, but desire - did he _want_ to regain control? She had yet to resist. Almost hesitantly, he lifted one hand and brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek, feather-light and gentle as the breeze til the motion was repeated. By this point, she had taken only a step backwards, and he followed suit with a step of his own. He continued til his body was pressed flush against her, til every curve in her body melted into his, til he could feel the quiver of her muscles deep within the core of his bones. All thoughts of boundaries were thrown astray, and he leaned forward til his lips were at the outer shell of her ear.

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Her hands pressed weakly into his abdomen, a torn mix between ravenous yearning and rational thinking - her heart was first to react and the strongest, and thus the latter won out, leaving her mind a jumbled mess of half-thoughts and swirling what-ifs. "K-Kakashi... What are you..." He didn't give her the chance to ponder. He didn't give her the chance to do anything, really, and she froze in place as the heat of his breath fanned out across her neck. She'd have assumed that his advances were continuing, but it seemed that he had changed his mind. Instead, out came a lascivious murmur, hardly above a whisper and hardly audible amidst the thrumming of her heart in its cage.

"Goodnight, Sakura."

The words were scarcely set adrift from his lungs before he was gone once more, yet again abandoning Sakura at the hands of helpless ignorance to the things she did not understand. Her body slumped and she sank to her knees, fingers curling into fists in her lap while she set an empty stare to where he had once been. Guilt wrought her body like an electric shock; Sasuke still held her heart - or so she thought - and what had just transpired felt more like a betrayal than anything. But Sasuke wasn't interested, right? All logic in her mind seemed to point that way, so she shouldn't have felt bad. Even still, her mind was locked to what had happened, replaying each fragment of detail in slow motion. It remained as such as she stood, as she slowly regathered her composure, as she proceeded the walk into her home as though the infamous copy-nin wasn't haunting every faucet of her thoughts.


	4. May I

**A/N: Thank you once more for the encouragement and kind words! Every view is appreciated and the feedback is all the more valuable.**

 _i will let go all that i know, knowing that you're here with me,_

 _for your love is changing me._

Minutes turned to hours and night turned to day long before Sakura had the chance to capture the sleep that so deftly evaded her; only a few of said hours had managed to lull the exhausted efforts of her burdened mind, and it was a burn she felt come dawn as the sun cracked its glare over the horizon in a hellish greeting. The various curses that flitted through her skull were better left muted as she refrained her tongue from bringing them to life and instead stretched lazily beneath the cover of her blankets.

Had her schedule been reverted to normalcy, she'd have begun the day with breakfast and a bit of cleaning - unfortunately, she was due to meet with Kakashi in only an hour, and it was in a short hurry that she eventually heaved herself out of bed and began the routine of getting ready for both the mission and for seeing his face again - two tasks she was not keen on encountering.

Her hands curled around her planned outfit for the day and she rushed to the bathroom without haste, turning on the shower and undressing just as quickly before stepping beneath the warm spray. Immediately, she felt the tension in her shoulders decreasing against the soft pressure of the water at her back, and a content sigh drifted from her lips as her fingers massaged shampoo through her pink tresses. Relaxing as it was, it didn't remove the worries from her brain.

Images of the silver-haired shinobi drifted through her head like a distant jeer, mixing beautifully with her taut nerves and silent curiosities. Whatever the hell he pulled last night had certainly granted a lasting effect, and the desire to hit him was stronger knowing that he was the reason she lost sleep.

"Damnit.." she muttered, gritting her teeth as she rinsed the suds from her hair. Their friendship through the years had grown - she was eternally grateful to him, and they were the only two remaining members of team 7 who had enough free time to do missions together. Sure, it had been a while, but it wasn't the first time. So what was different?

Her irritation only flared, this time at herself, and she silenced the train of thoughts before they could hit a dead-end. Nothing had changed. He was inebriated, as was she, and it was merely the influence of alcohol. Her head and her heart were momentarily pacified by the excuse and she swiftly finished the motions of her shower, setting her mind instead to act out the trivial tasks of preparing and leaving the house.

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By 7 o'clock, she'd arrived at the gates, the designated meeting place for the two of them at the designated time for them both to arrive. Truthfully, she shouldn't have been as worried about being late - 8 had rolled around rather quickly and it wasn't til ten past that Kakashi appeared in a cloud of smoke. He waved one hand and nodded towards her, lowering said hand and adjusting the bag hanging off his shoulders while the other hid in his pocket.

"Ready to go?" he asked, glancing at the sky before returning his eyes to her.

Nonchalant as ever, of course.

Her expression shifted to a scowl and she placed both hands on her hips, cocking her head and fixing him with a glare.

"You're late. Why can't you be on time ever? I've been here for over an hour!" she exclaimed, exasperation evident as her tone raised in volume.

He raised his hands defensively against the onslaught of anger, though one snaked backwards to scratch at his head sheepishly.

"Some genin needed help sharpening their kunai. How could I have said no?"

This had only made her anger flare, if only for a moment, and she threw her own hands up in defeat.

"By saying NO, Kakashi!" she cried, though she had turned and begun to trek forward by then, granting only a tiny nod to Kotetsu and Izumo as she passed with Kakashi trailing along behind. They both chuckled nervously and waved, muttering good tidings before turning to each other and sliding their eyes to Kakashi.

"She seems more irritable today," Kotetsu whispered, eyes darting between the copy-nin and his partner.

"No kidding," agreed Izumo, hardly audible lest Tsunade's apprentice overhear and skin him alive. He gave Kakashi a nod, a silent form of communication, and Kakashi smiled politely in return. Oblivious to the barbed temper Sakura possessed, or he merely did not care - whichever it was, the two men admired his courage.

Meanwhile, Sakura's defiant march had yet to cease; her aggravation had dwindled, however, and she cast a backwards glance at her partner, who turned that same smile her way. Her previous yearning to hit him returned full force, a crawling itch in her hands, and she swallowed it down before sighing quietly.

"Pain in the ass.." muttered the low tune of her voice, though she paused her journey and waited for him to join her. Stomping ahead would do neither of them any good. Soon enough, he was at her side, and the two turned and continued their walk towards the Land of Flowers. Relative silence had claimed them for only a few moments before he opted to speak, gifting her with a casual glance as he did so.

"I hope you're well rested, Sakura. We won't be stopping until dusk," he advised, expression devoid of any particular emotion.

If her anger were a tangible weapon, she'd have beaten him half to death with it.

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Their expedition proceeded rather peacefully shortly after departing from the Leaf; only sparingly did the two speak, neither willing to mention the topic from the evening before and both blissfully ignorant to the other's thoughts. Ignorance was vital in their predicament, anyways. Lunch had been taken as the sun hung lazily above them, a brief meal of granola bars eaten while walking - Kakashi was serious about not stopping - and several hours had passed since.

Evening's crepuscule loomed before them now, acting as a shadowed embrace streaked through with the purplish hues of twilight and coveted by the nocturnal creatures of their world. It was a beautiful sight, truthfully, and Sakura's eyes lifted to sweep carefully along the vivid brush strokes of color on the canvas above. Kakashi's voice broke her reverie, a deep and welcoming sound paired with the chill of the night, and she turned to him with a studious expression.

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"We'll set up here for the night," he suggested, gesturing to the area with a sweep of one hand. A small clearing amidst the thickest part of a coniferous forest, each trunk stretching high in the hopes of kissing the clouds, had been where they had paused, as Kakashi deemed it sheltered enough to sleep for a few hours. Not enough for them to sleep at the same time, but working in shifts was always a necessity come eventide.

He raked one hand through his mess of silver hair, threading through the knots with his fingers and resting his palm against the back of his head. His single eye, dark and attentive, scanned the bordering treeline around them in a vast sweeping motion. The sharingan wasn't necessary - if there was any danger to be found, his nose would have detected it. A quiet cough resonated from his throat and he turned to Sakura once more, inclining his chin towards her.

"Gather fire wood. I'll unpack our sleeping bags," commanded the baritone of his voice, however softly it drifted from the depths of his lungs. She complied with a short nod and swiftly leapt away, leaving him alone to sort through the tangled troubles clogging his mind while his hands kept busy with fishing through their packs and unrolling the sleeping bags.

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She was grateful for the newfound personal space and relieved to have some breathing room, though it did nothing to ease the confusion riddling her veins nor did it answer why she had been so nervous to begin with. It was _Kakashi-sensei_ , for crying out loud! When the hell had her body decided that he was different? He hadn't changed, per say - save for last night, he really was the same man she'd always known. Whatever had transpired had shifted her heart in a different direction, and it left her dazed on what to think of it. If only she could _stop_ thinking of it. The foolish workings of a woman had to be her current issue - she'd rather insult herself than attempt to understand - and she turned a blind eye to it and continued gathering sticks and logs into her arms. Self-discipline had always been easy for her and she wasn't prepared to fail.

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Only several moments had come and gone before Sakura's return, and she smiled brightly upon seeing that everything had, in fact, been set up. Just as promised, nonetheless. "Good job," she praised, setting down the kindling and stretching her arms above her head. "I'm exhausted."

He returned with a smile of his own and gradually gathered the wood she had brought back, arranging it neatly within the pit he had constructed and setting it aflame with a fireball jutsu. Upon finishing, he cast his eyes her way and felt another smirk tugging at his lips.

"Not hungry, Sakura-chan?"

A slight frown touched at her expression at the same moment her stomach growled, gifting her with a noisy reminder that the last thing she ate was a granola bar. Perfect. "Uh.." she replied, trailing into a nervous laugh and pressing one hand to her abdomen. "I guess I am."

At this, he lowered himself to a sit on his sleeping bag and turned to rummage through his bag, carefully sifting through his belongings before finally pulling out two containers of cold udon noodles and passing one to her. "It's not much, but it'll hold us over til morning," he regarded quietly, drifting his eye from the food to her face.

"Thanks," she nodded, repeating his action and sitting cross-legged with the container in her lap. He soundlessly handed her chopsticks and they both picked at their meals in muted silence, save for the crackling of the flames.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The campfire cast an austere glow upon the two shinobi, each a pair symbolic of their own individual struggles as they were swallowed indefinitely by their conflicts. The quiet that found them was stiff, teeming with critters known only to them each, and the strange tension suffocated the two as they attempted a facade of normalcy. Their dinner was only eaten in half-earnest, neither too keen on ravenous consumption as Naruto would have been, and Sakura soon found herself twirling the noodles absentmindedly instead of eating them like she should have been.

"Kakashi?" she asked, a note of hesitance punctuating the three syllables - she hated to disturb the silence that had graced them, hated to fracture the thin line that stretched between them like the thread of a spider's web, but the risk was worth it if it meant eradicating the cloud of blackness from within her head.

After a short moment, he lifted his chin, fixing his eyes not on her, but on the fire. "Mmm?" he murmured, an indicative note of his given attention while his chopsticks plucked at the noodles before him. He turned and swiftly tugged down his mask, allowing a small bite into his mouth before pulling the fabric back over his face and resuming his regular posture.

She, too, had drowned in the quiet for several long seconds, allowing whatever was brewing in her mind to reach its peak til being vocalized.

"What were you doing out late last night?"

It was a start, sure, but she had evaded the one thing that had been plaguing her since the night before. Instead, she aimed for the latter - finding Kakashi roaming the streets at midnight was not per his usual behavior, and the haunting emptiness she found in his eyes upon discovering him had left a particular sort of coldness within her bones. Maybe it wasn't the alcohol that had been guiding him.

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It took several prolonged minutes for the question to register, and even more for him to conjure a reply. His hands set the container of noodles down in front of him and his single eye fixated upon the curling flames ahead of him in a tortured silence familiar only to him. He remained as such, silent and still, til his lips parted and his voice escaped on hoarse undertones.

"I was paying my respects to them."

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It was a sneaking suspicion held within the cavern of her chest, an instinctual sixth-sense of knowledge she knew long before the question was pitched, but the answer had shaken her all the same. Kakashi wore two masks, physically and metaphorically, and the latter had covered much of his personal troubles and kept them invisible to all who knew him. She had always known that he visited the memorial stone frequently, but hadn't known on what level it was affecting him. Her eyes fell downcast to the campfire, joining his stare in observing the hunger of the fire as it lapped aggressively through the atmosphere. She didn't push him any further and merely bobbed her chin slightly in understanding, noodles now set aside and one finger drawing mindless circles through the dirt in front of her.

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Was there any real way to admit to it? To own what had been swallowing him since his childhood, to openly confess to his demons? To a superficial figure, it may have been deemed diminutive, but the ghosts in his skull knew better and he was not a fool. A dry smile cracked at his lips and he half-turned his face towards her, lifting one hand to scratch absentmindedly at the back of his head.

"I don't get a lot of sleep anymore, Sakura."

It was a humorless jab, one sent bitterly towards the things that prevented him from feeling truly happy, and his lips set into a firm line as soon as the words had departed from his chest. Confiding in someone, anyone, may have been a momentary relief, but he knew the hours to come would bring the nightmares he'd come to be acquainted with. He was alone, haunted by his mistakes and making amends with strict solitude. Obito and Rin's hatred, whether it was a mere figment of his self-torment or not, lashed out at him more often than he cared to admit. But Sakura eased it a little bit. She was the light to his darkness - he only hoped for her to realize it herself.

A muted sigh fell from his lungs and he tilted back his head, allowing his headband to shift up his forehead in order to expose his sharingan. Both eyes studied the expanse of the sky, now dotted with the glow of stars, and he made a game of connecting each speckle lining the illustrious cosmos. Another pause of silence had come, one where Sakura remained still and noiseless, and his expression turned thoughtful as he gazed at the night sky.

"I'd rather stay awake than face their anger in my sleep," he explained quietly, leaning back and supporting himself with both hands planted behind him on the ground. "At least I can escape when I'm conscious."

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Her eyes lifted as he spoke again and her fingers shifted to curl nervously in her lap, teeth nibbling on her lower lip as a habit of anxiety. It was rare of him to open up - he was the voice of reason and comfort and clarity and he was the support system and he was strong and unmoving and he was supposed to stay that way. He wasn't supposed to be hurting because he didn't deserve to be. When all of his admittances were met with silence in her skull, she wanted to scream at herself. For all the times that he'd helped her, she was clueless on how to help him - his problems were deep-rooted beyond her help, really, but anything would have sufficed.

Without another moment of hesitation, she rose and tugged her sleeping bag across the dirt, positioning it in perfect alignment so that theirs were nearly overlapping. She lowered herself slightly, glancing at him through turquoise eyes. "Lay down," commanded the pitch of her voice, soft and gentle in contrast with the cold evening. He obliged til he was on his side, and she repeated the action so that they were identical and facing each other in close quarters. Her eyes trailed along his jawline, memorized the structure of his cheekbones, before coming to rest on his gaze, and they both remained as such for a long period of time - staring into each other's eyes with only inches between them, their breath mingling as it ghosted from their lungs and their minds clouded with all the troubles that couldn't be named.

"I'm sorry for all of that, Kakashi," came the murmur after what felt like centuries, and she quirked her lips in a small humorless smile. "You make my problems with men seem like nothing," she finished with a dry laugh, though it didn't quite touch her eyes as the teal of her irises remained glossed over.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He returned the gesture with a tiny smirk of his own, and his expression softened significantly from the masked affliction it wore only moments prior.

"He's an idiot, you know. You deserve better," he murmured gently, not once shifting his gaze from hers lest the threat of tears finally materialize. He didn't dare suggest himself to be the better he spoke of - not in his current state, not as a shell of a man - but he almost hoped he wouldn't need to. His efforts to grant her understanding of what lay in her heart were slow-moving, but not without patience.

A breathless sigh floated from her lips and she lowered her head, fixing her eyes on the space between them. "I know," she mumbled in return, every veiled emotion brimming in the two words.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dealing with his own problems came as second nature - he rolled with the punches, so to speak, and her concern brought a shred of comfort to it all. But seeing her now, on the brink of crying and in a state of disappointment, was not something bearable. He gently snaked an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, til her head was buried against his chest and his chin was rested atop her skull, and he rubbed his hand in soothing circles along her back as the trembling of her body shook through to his core.

Many moments had come to pass til her quivering had ceased, punctuated only by the occasional sniffle, and the motions of his hand stilled with the end of her sobs, though his arm remained wrapped around her as he cradled her against him.

"Get some sleep. You'll need it," he advised quietly, and she nodded her compliance with the words without shifting from his grasp. He provided warmth and security, two things her life had lacked, and she was hesitant to move lest the feelings be permanently erased.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

His hearing, sharp and attentive, listened intently to the pattern of her breathing for almost an hour til it fell to the shallow grasp of sleep, and it was only then that he shifted and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, closing his eyes and expelling a noiseless breath from his lungs.

"Sleep well, Sakura."


	5. Cursed

**A/N: Super sorry for the delay - I got a bit tangled in my character portrayal and had to jot down exactly what I intend to do with the plot. Updates in the future will not be as late as this one was! In regards to the setting, I accidentally referred to their destination as the Land of Grass in the second chapter, but it is in fact the Land of Flowers; silly mistake. I've also changed the summary to be more befitting to how this is all unraveling. Enjoy, and thank you again for the positive feedback!**

 _don't know how to fight what i can't see -_

 _that girl has laid a curse on me._

Sakura awoke gradually, first with several blinks and then with a groan as she realized she was not in her bed, but instead on the cold ground of the forest. _Great._ Her sleep was dreamless and undisturbed, which was unusual considering she was due to keep watch at some point, and she bit her tongue to prevent from cursing Kakashi as her eyes glanced sideways to confirm that neither he nor his belongings were in place. _Idiot._ It wasn't uncommon, but peeved her all the same.

With a sigh, she pulled herself from her bedroll and proceeded to pack it up, wasting not a single second on lazing around as the sun continued to rise above them. Daylight couldn't be hashed away. As soon as her things were neatly tucked back into her bag, she turned and gave the treeline a wary scan with her eyes - the copy-ninja was clever, but she knew his habits inside and out, and it stood to her advantage all the same.

It wasn't til moments later that she located him and meandered his way, pausing at the base of the tree and tilting her head back to fix him with a stare. Another minute of pause came to pass, one in which she studied him carefully while he studied the book in his hands.

He gave no indication that he knew she was there and granted her not even a glance, but she knew that he was not oblivious.

"I was supposed to take watch," she stated after several more seconds, breaking the quiet between them and snagging his focus momentarily. His eyes shifted downwards, regarding her with a slow blink, before flitting back to the pages before him.

"You looked tired," he returned, albeit monotonously, and he prolonged a pause til his fingers snapped the book shut and he turned his torso towards her. His lips curved with a smile and his eyes creased in compliance while one hand reached up to scratch idly at the back of his head.

"Isn't there something about women needing beauty sleep?"

Her hands itched to snag the book and beat him bloody with it, but she settled instead for a sigh of defeat as her fingers pinched at the bridge of her nose, eyes screwed shut while each breath was counted til ten had filled her lungs.

Patience was key when dealing with Kakashi Hatake.

"Isn't there something about old men and climbing trees? Impressive, though," she shot in return, each word lined with only a hint of malice despite the smirk that tugged at her mouth.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It wasn't that he hadn't slept - truth be told, he had, and he regretted it all the same as dawn broke through the sky and jostled him from his rest. They'd gone through the night unscathed, but it was a risk he hated himself for taking.

Partially, satisfaction overrode remorse - the soft, rhythmic breathing of the pink haired kunoichi tucked into his side had lulled him out of consciousness and granted him a deep sense of comfort. For once, he was without nightmares. And maybe, for once, she was without a heavy heart.

He muttered something in defense about his age and leaped down from the branch, landing neatly in front of her while one hand shifted the book into his pocket. Better to keep it from view than leave it out and irritate her further. His chin declined and he pinned a single eye to her face, only met by the narrowed turquoise of her own, and he cleared his throat quietly as his gaze then diverted to the treeline.

"We should get going. And maybe think of a game plan for this thing," he suggested, arching a brow down towards the woman.

She nodded her agreement and nibbled her lower lip in thought, hauling her pack over her shoulder and raising her finger to point for him to do the same.

"I studied the map yesterday," she pitched, roving her stare first from the earth and settling it to his face. "The fastest route will cut us through the forest and over a lake before crossing the border. Our destination won't be far after that and we'll arrive by late morning tomorrow."

His head dipped in a nod, slow and calculative, and he cleared his throat once more before turning away from her. "Sounds fine. Ready when you are."

He didn't feel ready, really. He wanted to stretch the time they had and linger over each moment like it was their last - after all, once they got back to the village, it was back to her blindly pursuing Sasuke and him watching bitterly from the sidelines. He had very little time to give her some clarity. His lips set into a firm line, grim in appearance, and he cocked his head back to sweep her with a quick scan of his eyes.

 _She can't be that oblivious, can she?_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Under the piercing stare of the man before her, she knew not what to do or say - she felt like a deer with a kunai through its chest, truthfully, and she blinked towards him with only slight confusion marring her features.

"Kakashi-sensei? Are you alright?" she probed quietly, peering into his charcoal eye as though the fathomless depths would hold the answers. Of course, she was wrong.

After only a few short seconds, he snapped from his reverie and lifted one hand to muss her hair, quirking his lips into a smile that didn't quite match the rest of his expression.

"Not your sensei," he chimed cheerfully, the words a blissful reminder on his tongue, and he turned and began to pace away from her, heading into the thick conifers and leaving her to follow.

What the hell was wrong with that man? She cocked her head and watched him move, even studied each shift of his legs as he walked, and she couldn't stop her mind from wondering when exactly she'd made a habit of analyzing him.

When did she care before? When did it matter? _'Probably when your heart and your head stopped communicating,'_ chided the bitter tune of her inner conscience, and she bit her tongue - hard - to quiet the voice she just couldn't bear to listen to. Not now.

Quickly returning to reality, she furrowed her brows and broke into a run to catch up with him, beckoning an indignant "hey!" as she closed the gap between herself and his quickly departing body.

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They walked side-by-side til noon, til the sun threatened them from above with its sweltering heat and forced them to pause. Thankfully, they'd reached their designated midway point - the forest was arduous, but hopping from branch to branch proved to carve their time in half. After emerging from the trees, as promised, they'd come to face the lake that Sakura had mentioned. Now it was just a matter of getting across. Or around.

On cue, her stomach grumbled noisily and she clutched the fabric of her shirt with one hand, grimacing all the while. They hadn't eaten since... last night. _Smart._

Kakashi twisted to fix her with a curious glance, though he knew better than to wait for answers - instead, he prompted words of his own, shouldering the pack from behind him and resting it at his feet with a 'thump.'

"Lunch?" he inquired, and she bobbed her head in eager agreement to the proposal.

"Please and thank you," she returned, her voice accentuated with a pleasant lilt known only to the hands of friendliness and excitement. How rare. Instead of dwelling, he chuckled under his breath and retrieved their meals - two granola bars each this time, with the company of food pills to join them. Riveting.

After handing her portion to her, they both slumped down to a sit at the shore of the water and munched comfortably on their food while their eyes followed each lapping motion of the water at their feet.

The lake was mostly clear, offering a brilliant reflection of the picturesque blue of the sky, and each tiny wave - likely stirred by fish beneath the surface - acted as a show for her teal gaze. It really was beautiful. But not quite as beautiful as the idea that flitted through her mind.

Swallowing back the remainder of the first granola bar, she flexed her fingers and turned to Kakashi with a tell-tale smirk gracing her features, and he returned the smirk with an expression devoid of anything other than mock caution.

"Should I be scared?" he pried after a moment, assessing her face with small sweeps of his eyes while she continued to beam at him like she'd won the lottery. It would have been creepy if it weren't, well, _her._

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Let's spar," she suggested coolly, not bothering to hide the undertone of mirth as he returned her stare with one of his own, albeit one a bit more empty.

"After eating? We'll get sick," he pitched in return, though his hands had long since set down the food and instead rested precariously atop his bent knees. His voice did not match his body language, of course, and she saw straight through the facade before he had even constructed it.

"Come oooon!" continued the whine of her voice, and she swiftly rose upwards and put one hand on her hip, offering the other one to him while a devilish glint caught her eye. "Unless you're scared I'll beat you."

As expected, he scoffed and took her hand, allowing her to pull half his weight as he hauled himself to his feet with her assistance and fixed her with a pointed look.

"You can try."

It wasn't a challenge, but a threat. Truthfully, he knew she was more than capable of kicking his ass - she'd proven it before - but giving her the extra motivation was that much more fun. Maybe it was the inner teacher in him. Or maybe it was the inner pervert that wanted to see her sweat and bend in ways only a kunoichi could.

Both. _Very_ much both.

To his relief, she met the words with a widening of her smirk into an actual grin, the type that told tales of dangerous promise, before she disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Fast, but he was faster.

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He made no haste in leaping from his position and landing on a nearby branch, crouched low enough for the trees to cover him while his eyes scanned the patch of woodland for her dainty figure. It was his first mistake, but his ears would not fail him, and he heard the splash of water behind him only a nanosecond before he shot out of place, narrowly missing a chakra-infused punch as it shattered the wooden limb he had been resting on.

 _Damn._

His fingers worked tirelessly and he landed neatly on the surface of the water, pressing his hands to form the water dragon jutsu and smirking haughtily as the familiar form rose above him and lunged for its prey.

She quickly ducked and rolled from its liquid grasp, countering with a swift punch through its middle and continuing through as that same punch aimed for the torso of her ex-sensei. He lifted his headband from his face to reveal the sharingan and used it to his advantage in predicting her course, stepping sideways and capturing her wrist with one hand while bending her arm behind her back and pulling her flush against his chest.

"You'll have to try harder than that, Sakura," he whispered against the shell of her ear, and she replied by twisting from his grasp and bending to sweep one leg out and trip him. It was successful, and he plunged into the cool blue water below, disappearing from her view and from her wrath while water splashed angrily against her scowling face.

Even still, she shivered, recollecting the previous proximity as her skin burned with the memory of his breath fanning against it. Likely, lingering on this was her downfall, and while her eyes quickly analyzed the depths of the water - he had to surface for air, right? - she found that she had failed to check behind her.

Another splash followed, paired with a shout of "chidori," and she swallowed air and repeated his motion of plunging into the frigid depths of the water.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He couldn't help but smile to himself as he watched her pink head disappear beneath the surface of the lake. ' _And they call_ _ **me**_ _the copy-nin.'_ At least she had learned to implement the tactic sooner rather than later - he predicted it from the start, and thus utilized his chidori to scare her from her position and send her beneath him. Now it was a matter of location.

His sharingan swept the water carefully, combing through each newly-formed wave in search of either a shock of pink hair or the familiar chakra signature of his former student. Neither were visible, not til a moment later as both rapidly approached from the east, and he quickly found himself blocking a flurry of punches as she exploded from the bottom of the lake.

Each slam of her fist was met with one arm to keep it from connecting with his body, and he continued on the defense all while his legs had shifted and advanced forward, forcing her back and slowly draining her stamina through the assault. Victory was imminent.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You're strong for your age," she taunted through gritted teeth, flashing her shaded gaze up to meet his mismatched one. She'd challenged him fully aware of what would transpire, though she was a bit more hopeful to be on the winning side. He was sharper than usual, more alert and more in sync with the movements of her body, and it equally frustrated her as it did fascinate. She'd always known that years of training and exercising had been kind to him, but never truly observed it up-close - his body shifted like that of a feline, fluid and graceful, and it was that mesmerization that had cost her the battle.

She cursed as she realized the predicament, quickly stepping back to hopefully avoid the inevitable, but to no avail - she was doomed.

"Damnit..." she hissed, sending chakra straight to her tight-clenched fist and attempting one final precise blow.

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His lips tugged halfheartedly into a cocky smile and he ducked below another carefully aimed punch, wincing as the power of it clipped his shoulder and shattered the scapula. Even so, he lunged beneath her arm and circled one of his own around her middle, biting his tongue against the new surge of pain as they both toppled off balance.

Had the fight been a regular one, he'd have finished her long ago. Had it been a spar of any other norm, he'd have taken a more reproachful method and returned her blows with his own, but instead he opted to tackle the beast. Why not?

They rolled once, twice, and he finally was able to pin her on her stomach, hands held firmly behind her back in the grip of his own while her cheek was pressed into the dew-laden grass. Both of their chests heaved, rapid and deep, and he leaned himself forward in a half-slump with a chuckle departing from his lips.

"Age is but a number," he finally returned, careful to keep the mockery from leaking into his tone, and she merely grumbled beneath his weight.

"You're as heavy as a thousand numbers. Get off of me," she commanded in reply - very clearly irritated, but he couldn't blame her, so he merely rolled from his position and seated himself gingerly beside her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

One hand planted itself on the grass, then the other, and soon she had managed to lift herself from her prior point of rest, folding her legs neatly beneath her and turning to shoot a quick comment towards Kakashi, but he interrupted her before the words could leave her throat.

"Mind loaning me some of that healing chakra? You broke a bone this time."

He didn't look mad, or even peeved - patience marred his expression, and still the sharingan swirled fathomlessly as he gazed at her with one arched brow. Even injured, he was calm, collected, and... something more. Inhaling slowly, she blinked and nodded her chin, uncurling her fingers from her lap and shifting forward.

"Sorry about that," she murmured, infusing the glow of green to her fingers and hovering it gently above the area he had directed her to.

In turn, he merely turned his head and smiled, the action enough to make her stomach churn as she became aware of the current proximity between their faces.

"Don't worry about it," he replied, creasing his eyes as his smile grew further. "It was inspired by my use of the chidori. I had it coming."

She was tempted to re-break the bone just for the sake of shutting him up. Instead, she bit her tongue and furrowed her brows, dragging her gaze from his and focusing it on the task at hand. "It was inspired by Tsunade's training, you fool. And you certainly did not have it coming."

Even still, he grinned like a wolf and leaned back a bit, propping the rest of his torso up with one hand behind him while his eyes traveled to the sky above. "Maybe," he mused quietly, releasing a sigh with the words as the soothing tingle worked its way into the fibers of his muscle and then the core of the fracture. "Don't tell me you didn't want to hit me, Sakura."

He was teasing her, without a doubt, and the levity of his current mood had radiated like a cloud from the center of his body. It wasn't typical of him to relax and actually enjoy a situation - he was renowned for his stoicism, really - but something about Sakura's temperament had dug its way under his skin and connected with his nerves in just the right way.

Were he a lesser being, he'd have even called her cute.

"Shut it, perv," she snapped, cheeks tinting pink to match her hair while her teeth nibbled furiously on her lower lip - a habit, he noticed, that had only recently developed.

He must have been a lesser being after all.

Sending another devilish grin her way, he finally shut his mouth and took to the comfortable silence, allowing the few moments of peace to calm his mind while his gaze found shapes in the slowly-dissolving clouds above them.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Was he always so goddamn frustrating? So infuriating? Did he usually push her buttons - and all the right ones, too! - in a deliberate attempt to eat at her? She could spend years convincing herself that he hadn't changed, but by now, she was mostly convinced: something was different.

She swallowed her doubts hastily and cast him a glance, managing to catch the gleam in his eye and wrinkling her nose distastefully at him before rushing through the procedure and fully healing the broken bone.

Another moment spent like this and she'd have likely screamed.

"Finished," she announced, leaning back and falling to her rear while her fingers tangled idly in the thick grass below.

He rotated his arm in its socket several times, testing the joint and its newly-repaired bone, before letting his arm fall limp with newfound satisfaction. A job well done, per usual.

"Thank you, Sakura," came the words after a moment, this time free of the previous humor and instead paired with a serious tone moreso suited to his traits.

A tiny smile tugged at her lips and she brought her hands to her lap, folding them together and fixing him with a quick glance.

"We've got a few hours left to travel, care to get going?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The aforementioned hours felt more akin to minutes as they moved; maybe it was her overworked body, or maybe it was the company she held. Either way, she was grateful that it didn't drag on.

As they journeyed, the landscape had shifted, and soon the trees gave way to tall grass and towering flowers, both of which taller than the shinobi that traveled through them. It was fascinating, and it was clear that they were definitely in the Land of Flowers - now was the time to be alert.

The landscape was vastly different from Fire country; what it lacked in trees it made up for in other various forms of plantlife, and she understood how it had earned its name. It was only a recently developed country, hashed out from the edge of the Land of Earth, but nobody could guess that judging from looking at it. It looked unique, like it had always existed.

While Sakura marveled at the terrain, Kakashi cleared his throat and raised one hand to point carefully at a certain patch of grass.

"We can take cover there for the evening. The grass should hide our scent and we'll be entirely obscured from view."

Her eyes averted to the area and she nodded once, redirecting her footsteps to follow his as they parted the thick green blades and stepped into their shelter. It was cozy, really; large enough to house both their sleeping rolls while granting them enough room to pace a little bit.

Anything too cramped would've driven them both insane, though certainly for separate reasons.

"This is nice, Kakashi," she pitched, nodding affirmation to follow the words before slumping her bag from her shoulders and beginning to set up. He, of course, copied the motions, both working in silence til they were all set up and prepared for the evening.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura sank quietly onto the padded material of her sleeping bag, casting a sidelong glance at her companion as he mimicked the action and returned the look. A yawn bubbled from her chest and she covered her mouth to suppress it, allowing a tiny stretch with an arch of her back.

"Do you think the others miss us yet?" she mused, the etchings of a smile marking her features.

He pondered a moment, inclining his chin and maintaining a stoic expression. "Probably not," finally returned his voice, earnest and straightforward. "It's only been two days."

In turn, she sighed and leaned back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear while the breeze whipped carelessly against the exposed flesh of her arms. Wearing a short-sleeved top wasn't her best decision; she hadn't known what the climate would be like in the Land of Flowers, and so far, it was unbelievably windy.

Another moment of pause came to pass, one filled only by the ticking in her mind, and she finally glanced up from the empty space in front of her to peer into his single eye. "Does Sasuke hate me?"

It felt like a juvenile question - and maybe it was - but something about the raven-haired boy weighed heavily on her chest for years. Whatever it was, she didn't know. Part of her didn't want to know. But maybe closure would help dissolve it.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

If it were a question proposed in the years prior, he'd have deemed it as childish, something mused only by the workings of a teenage mind with her first crush. Now, it had left the lips of a woman, one circumstancially aware while simultaneously ignorant, and the depth of it all shook him to the core. Whether it was the goosebumps on her flesh or the sadness in her eyes, he didn't know - something compelled him to move, to shift himself and join her and somehow ease the chill that had settled in her bones.

And so he did, one arm coming to wrap around her shoulder and knees bent at an angle with one resting against her own. He didn't know how to reply immediately, and she seemed content to sit with that - for all of her faults, he was thankful for her occasional lapses of patience. It was necessary when dealing with her idiot team, but worked in his favor nonetheless.

Finally, his mind and tongue had communicated, and he half-turned his face towards her to capture the splash of bright green in her eyes. "Would it matter if he did?"

As careless as it was, as right as it felt, he knew it was far from comforting, and a sigh befell his lips as his brain cranked once more to conjure something a bit more considerate.

"I don't think he hates you, Sakura. I think he has yet to grow up emotionally or mentally. You're his friend, even if he can't acknowledge it outwardly."

This settled a bit better in his chest, and apparently a bit better in hers; her hand lifted and met the one that dangled off her shoulder, granting his fingers a gentle squeeze while her eyes slid shut for but a moment.

"You're right," she murmured, followed by a slow release of breath as she recomposed her features. "You're right. It just sometimes feels like I'm drowning instead of swimming, y'know?"

He nodded, pensive in expression while his thumb swept careful circles on the back of her hand, a hand that had yet to drop from the loose grasp it had initiated.

"Maybe you're just swimming in the wrong direction."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Most of his words rang true, and while the clarity granted brought with it a sense of relief, it also further sank the stone in her heart. She still didn't know what she was asking. Not exactly, anyways. And not til his last words had met her ears.

Her gaze flashed up, meeting the sudden intensity of his, and suddenly it felt she'd forgotten how to breathe. How? How the hell could a ninja forget how to breathe?

Moreover, what was he talking about?

Instead of returning with a reply - as dumbfounded as she was, how could she? - she instead found herself locked in his stare, both assessing the other with thinly veiled caution as though meeting for the first time.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

In his opinion, he'd have liked to prolong his time, to keep his distance and respect her boundaries and bide his time til the day she came around, but something about the pain that dwelled at her core acted as a magnet.

How could he stand by while she suffered? Sasuke might have failed in killing her physically, but emotionally, it was a death she faced daily.

His expression gradually morphed into something beyond readability, beyond that which she could recognize, and he shifted forward ever-so-slightly, not once allowing his gaze to stray from hers.

By some miracle, she didn't move, nor did she protest to the sudden change in atmosphere and proximity; instead, she gazed into his face as though the dark abyss of his single visible eye would give her some clue on what to do.

He continued forward, inching his torso closer, til his face hovered just a breath away from her own, and the hand on her shoulder had long since slid down to rest gingerly on the small of her back.

 _'What the hell am I doing?'_

 _'What the_ _ **hell**_ _am I doing?'_

Not another second to spare was wasted on the thought as the final gap was erased, one hand lifting to tug down his mask for a split-second before his eyes closed and his lips pressed tenderly, almost hesitantly, to hers; it was a quiet gesture, one spoken in the hands of compassion, and he held it for but another moment before retracting and keeping his lids shut lest his view be met with anger; while the moment remained, he seized the opportunity to replace the mask on his face and allowed his hand to fall limp from his face.

On some level, foreign as it was, he knew that anger was not to come, but Kakashi Hatake was not a selfish man and soon found a twinge of guilt careening through his veins.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, hand falling to the dirt below while the other curled into a tight fist in his lap.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Were the cells in her brain working, she'd have reacted appropriately. To no particular surprise, they were not, and she sat helpless as he first advanced, and then kissed her. If she had any doubts before, she certainly didn't have them anymore. Something _had_ changed.

 _'Kakashi kissed me.'_

The thought could barely register, and even subconsciously, one hand lifted and her fingers hovered tentatively over her lower lip as though the thrumming of warmth in the flesh beneath could radiate through to the tips of her fingers.

 _'Kakashi_ _ **kissed**_ _me.'_

She cleared her throat after a long pause, finally forcing her eyes from his face and taking to study his posture instead. He was... sorry? Confusion crossed her features, a delayed reaction and a result of her slow-working brain. She couldn't understand what was wrong til the full force of the situation hit her, and it was then that she swallowed whatever rise of emotion had risen in her chest and fixed a small smile to her face.

Her hand shifted forward to capture his once more, and a soft squeeze was enough to bring his eyes back to her face.

"No worries," she returned coolly, waving her other hand as though to brush it off. Of course, her insides disagreed with the action, but at least she could partially construct some sort of composure on the outside. "Do you kiss Naruto like that too?" continued her voice, this time with a teasing edge as she gifted him with a coy wink.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He didn't know what to expect in terms of a reaction, but whatever she had given certainly was not it. Surprise first met his face, and then a distant form of humor as she seemed to recollect herself and then fall back into casual conversation. It was one of his favorite things about her - well, he loved her entire personality, really - and he leaned back and smirked, reaching his hand around to scratch half-heartedly at his head.

"Well, I certainly try. I find he's not as receptive," he joked sheepishly, creasing his eyes to match the expression he wore.

Her features was first shocked, and then she broke into a fit of laughter, the sound a musical lilt that floated through his veins like a drug he had not known he was addicted to. And as compelling as it was, he joined her, stifling his laughter with his hand so as not to be as careless as her - after all, they were hiding in the grass.

Even so, there was something fitting about the scenario - something about the glow of the moon and the tug of the wind and the aura of quiet bliss that had reclaimed them and given them something to cling to.

It was a pleasure and a joy, and Kakashi smiled inwardly as the stars reflected their shine unto them.

He was glad to be on the mission. And hopefully, she was glad too.


	6. St Clarity

**A/N: A million thanks for the views and reviews - you guys are my ultimate motivation :).**

 _and i know you carry a sense of weariness, i see;_

 _you're the one i'm wanting with the plainest clarity._

The cycle of time passed quickly after their brief exchange; Sakura slept first, and was roused only partway through the night by a gentle shake from Kakashi's hand to signal that it was his turn to rest.

She obliged happily and replaced him as their guard, carefully flitting her eyes between the perimeter and the gentle rise and fall of his chest til the orange glow of sunlight spilled over the horizon. The remainder of the morning progressed with the same quiet pace, and it was this lack of fervor that stirred an idle thrum of doubt in Sakura's chest.

"Sleep well?" she inquired lightly, retrieving her bag from the ground and slinging it loosely over her shoulder.

"Mhm," he replied, though it was more akin to a grunt.

On any other occasion, she and Kakashi would toss playful banter back and forth to occupy their minds and grant them a distraction. Conversation had always come easy for the two shinobi, something they'd been blessed with thanks to compatible personalities, and much of Sakura's present hesitation stemmed from the lack of sociability that currently stood between them.

He, for once, kept his mouth firmly shut and busied his hands with packing up his things. The phrase "speak only when spoken to" had clearly struck through his heart, and even then, it was barely anything. Perhaps he was tired. Perhaps remorse for his attitude the previous evening had buried itself in his heart like a tangle of barbed thorns.

Her veins stirred with emotion - anger or disappointment, she couldn't tell which - and she turned her back on the silver haired man and waited for him to finish his task. All the while, her mind cranked ceaselessly, conjuring doubt upon doubt to cancel out any prior inklings of hope that lingered in the recesses of her head.

Wait, _hope_? Since _when_?

She groaned and hung her head, roving her stare over the flattened grass under her feet.

 _'Men are idiots,'_ bitterly chimed her subconscious mind, and though she nodded along with the notion, she still couldn't quell the pit of hurt that stubbornly sat within. Why do it? Why go back and forth? Her musings were empty, based upon conjecture, and she bit her lip and shook her head to clear it of the clutter of thoughts.

She was a grown woman. Whatever his problem was, it wasn't her own, and working herself up over it would be her downfall. _'To Hell with him,'_ she concluded mentally, triumphant for but a moment til his voice cracked through her inner monologue.

"Let's go."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He wasn't entirely ignorant to his shift in demeanor nor did he miss the change in Sakura's expression as she attempted to read him. The line of communication between his head and his heart had been severed - when, he didn't know - and his atmosphere was fogged as they journeyed towards the city.

The faces of his deceased team glared at him from within his brain, malice scrawled painfully across each of their faces as though their accusations could cut through his core. And they did, doubtlessly. Had he not learned his lesson? Attachment is weakness. Attachment leads to destruction when the grip of death inevitably lays its claim. The thought was dark, but true, as far as he was concerned.

All that he had come to love was torn from his grip, and all of his promises were shredded in the process. Years ago, he vowed to maintain distance and avoid the same pain that he went through in his youth. Suffering the consequences of a traumatized mind did little to ease his burden, nor did bottling up his emotions.

With Sakura, it all came boiling to the surface.

He knew he wanted her. He'd known it for a while, traversed the route and reached the conclusion.

He knew she reciprocated, even if she was unaware. Even if it was subconscious. Even if Sasuke played as a nostalgic distraction from what lurked in her heart, a thing that was certainly beating, but not for the man she'd been pining after.

What he didn't know was how to deal with the doubts and repercussions and tiny hesitations that plucked mercilessly at his mind like a handful of knives, a chorus of metal immobilizing rationality.

 _'Can I trust myself?'_

He cast his eyes sideways, momentarily catching sight of Sakura's empty expression, and sighed.

It was an age-old question, one he struggled with daily and one that plagued him without relenting.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Relative silence hung between the two like a thick dark cloud, each ticking second representative of the tension that brewed just beneath the surface. Sakura marched with confidence alongside her companion, though did not make any more attempts at conversation. If he wanted to hold his tongue, she'd let him.

The landscape surrounding them had only grown more beautiful as they advanced far beyond the border; the wind had yet to let up, mussing both her hair and her mood, but the towering flowers and blades of grass swayed elegantly against the arc of each gust. To be expected, flowers meant bugs, and large flowers meant... well, large bugs. Sakura found herself spooked more than a handful of times as bumblebees the size of her fist meandered peacefully on their route, buzzing noisily in her ear as they passed.

For the sake of being pleasant, she merely ignored the idea that scarier insects were hidden from view and instead honed her focus on their current objective - reaching Tawasaki. How a city had managed to carve itself out of the vivid blend of colors around them was a mystery to her.

Pulling free of her thoughts, she narrowed her eyes and peered ahead, catching sight of the faint outline of what would be their destination. They had a lot more walking to do til they reached it, but the distant image of what was waiting for them - moreover, the idea of sleeping in an actual bed - renewed her hope and her spirits, and she lifted her chin with a small smile.

"Another hour or so."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The hour had actually come to be two, though the goal was all the same - they'd arrived in Tawasaki by ten AM and were greeted by a gate and the walls that surrounded the city. For a region of its caliber, it at least maintained the same security as most of the smaller villages. Even still, Sakura had been expecting something vastly different. Then again, she hadn't seen the inside yet.

Their gait slowed to a pause just outside the gate and they glanced about carefully, assessing their surroundings before being stopped entirely by a guard.

"State your business," he issued gruffly, snaking one hand down to rest on the hilt of his gun. He was built with thickly-corded muscles and a whole head taller than Kakashi - it would have been intimidating had he been a shinobi. Thankfully, he was not.

"We're here on our honeymoon," returned Kakashi, smooth as silk without a moment of hesitation. The lie felt easy on the tongue; after all, they'd changed into civilian attire before their arrival, so why not play the role?

It was only a matter of communicating the plan to his pink-haired friend.

The vein in Sakura's temple pulsated angrily as she shot him a glare, curling her fingers into two tight fists and clenching her teeth against the urge to kill him.

God, she wanted to kill him.

The other man remained silent for but a moment before nodding his chin once and stepping aside, gesturing to his peers to open the gate for the two faux lovers.

"Enjoy your stay," he beckoned as they passed, this time a bit more cheerful.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Our honeymoon?!" Sakura hissed as soon as they were out of earshot, eyes narrowed to dangerous slits against the man who provoked her.

He merely shrugged, a gentle lift of his shoulders, and quirked a brow her way.

"Better safe than sorry. Our target likely has those guards in his back pocket. Why make anything suspicious?"

His point was valid. More than valid. She was a fool to think honesty would play in their favor. But knowing this did nothing to quiet her fury as it churned relentlessly in her stomach.

She settled for irritation rather than rage and threw her hands up in defeat, stomping ahead of him with nothing more than irritated curses thrown back towards him.

He, in turn, fought the smile that threatened to claim him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The setting was certainly different from that of the villages they'd come to familiarize themselves with, though the term 'city' was one coined loosely. In terms of size, it was far from small- buildings sprawled down the lengths of the roads, packed tightly together to save space for the bigger business.

Bright signs directed attention towards their advertised products or locations while men and women alike perused the streets in business-casual attire: slacks and vests paired against dressed and skirts.

Kakashi tilted his head back and hooked one thumb into his pocket, releasing a low whistle as he absorbed the scene.

He'd traveled a lot in his lifetime, but had never seen a sight quite as unique as Tawasaki.

"We're meeting with the contact, councilman Hisoka," he stated, not bothering to glance at Sakura as he scanned the area ahead of them. He knew she heard him, which was confirmed by a low murmur from his east.

"He'll tell us what to do, I presume?" his companion finally inquired, arching an inquisitive brow with a delicate lift.

In turn, he gave a curt nod and raked one hand through his mess of white hair, undoing the knots with his fingers and resting his palm against the back of his head while his lips tilted into the beginning of a smile.

"Yeah. Just gotta find him," he returned sheepishly, though wasted no more time in conversation and merely turned away from the woman; he sniffed tentatively at the air, yet again thankful for his keen sense of smell, and strolled without a sound down one of the many cobblestone roads that greeted them.

Sakura was quick to follow, cursing him for the millionth time beneath her breath.

She prayed he heard each tainted word.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Their secondary destination had been a small tea house located towards the heart of the city, nestled amidst brick-built peers and mostly obscured from view due to the aforementioned. It was perfect for their rendezvous, as was evident by the company it held, and Sakura gazed at rustic style of art that plastered the walls til Kakashi's voice pulled her from her mind.

"Over there," he directed with a jerk of his chin, bringing her focus to a lone man dressed head to toe in garbs fitting of someone of his position. It was to be expected, and he certainly did little to disguise his identity. Hopefully, they wouldn't get caught.

She bobbed a quiet nod, still numbed into silence by his shift in demeanor, and forced her legs to move as they followed with his.

Their contact, an older gentleman, lifted his head from the newspaper that busied his hands and granted them with the briefest of nods, drawing his sharp gaze over every inch of Sakura's body before transferring it to Kakashi.

"Councilman Hisoka," greeted the copy-nin, slipping both hands into his pockets as he paused in front of the table with Sakura at his side.

Neither made any move to sit - the meeting would be brief for reasons of security - and Hisoka seemed content with their lack of positive sociability as he leaned back in his chair and analyzed Kakashi with a hard glare.

Silence followed the silver-haired man's words, broken only by the soft breathing emitted by the trio, til their contact chose to speak.

"I requested a kunoichi," he barked out, the words set adrift on the wings of distaste as his gaze finally brought itself to rest on Kakashi's single eye. "Why am I paying extra?"

And that single eye narrowed against the statement, a quiet threat brewing just beneath the surface of the darkened depths.

"Hisoka, I -" he began, though his voice stopped abruptly as Sakura's palm slammed angrily onto the table's surface.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura maintained the traits of good manners and respect towards her superiors - it was something she had been raised with and something Tsunade instilled further throughout years of training. This, however, did not compose the entirety of her being.

Tsunade's fire burned deep within her core, enough for the Fifth hokage to vocalize it frequently, and suppressing her defiance would do little at the expense of her comrade.

Her hand came down with an impatient thud, teal glare locking coldly with the yellowed one of the second man, and her expression shifted drastically from the patient friendliness it held prior to.

"You'd be paying far more if said kunoichi didn't return from this mission," she challenged, brows knitting together with a scowl. "Be reasonable."

For just a moment, the face of her opponent displayed surprise, which then shifted to mock indifference as his hands tugged to straighten his robes as though her irritation had mussed them. If only.

"Mind your tongue, little girl," he quipped in reply, the words laced with an inkling of malice despite the composure that marked his face.

Sakura snorted and folded her arms across her chest, tongue curling angrily in her mouth as her lips parted to return another insult, though Kakashi's placed his hand over hers gently and fixed her with a serious stare.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Stand down, Sakura," he murmured, then turning his focus to Hisoka and lowering his chin as though respectful actions would help earn his keep. A man could dream.

"She's right. Missions like this dictate pairs. I apologize for the miscommunication."

As always, his tune flowed in a manner akin to water, free of any sort of edge and upheld by the calm apathy that rested within him. It worked in his favor and Hisoka blinked, seemingly mulling it over for but a moment before a sigh befell his lips and he pulled a folded paper from his pocket.

"You," he issued sternly, directing a quick glance to Sakura and handing the paper her way. She accepted with a short bob of her chin, unfolding it and smoothing the creases with her thumbs.

Directions were scrawled in neat lines, each parallel to each other with punctual words issued for the sake of outlining their mission:

Her gaze skimmed it briefly, taking note of key points, and she pawned it off to Kakashi as soon as she had finished.

 _'Tawasaki's tobacco production is renowned as the largest in the Land of Flowers, and the company's president - Shigeo Nakashima- holds his status in high regard. Wealthy and comfortable, he often throws luxurious parties to celebrate his success and keep the public satisfied with him._

 _This would typically be of no concern, however, competing companies have hit dead ends due to the sudden disappearances of their own presidents. Killed, maimed, or simply kidnapped - nobody knows, and nobody cares to know. Rumors of Nakashima's business being naught more than a farce have spread like wildfire from Tawasaki's core to the surrounding cities and elsewhere; questions on drug distribution have been raised with the ambiguity of truth._

 _Separate nations have their eyes on us and are considering revoking our autonomic government to reign control of the situation of our capital. Nakashima is hosting a masquerade ball a week from tomorrow - you will find Natsumi Fujioka, a woman of small status who had been luckily granted an invitation to the festivity, perusing the book store most Thursday afternoons. She enjoys reading and her schedule does not typically stray._

 _Your job will be to locate her, incapacitate her by any means necessary (excluding death) and assume her identity til the end of the masquerade. It will act as your ticket into Nakashima's home; you've two days to go through with this. From there, you are to seek him out, get close to him, get him alone, and extract information from him regarding the missing persons and the supposed drugs. Should he admit, you are to restrain him and grant custody of him to the council. The police of this city are his dogs and they are to be avoided._

 _Be efficient. Make no mistakes.'_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Silence encroached upon the trio like a blanket, covering them from any surrounding sound and granting them the comfort known only to private conversation. After what felt like an eternity of reading, both shinobi lifted their eyes, the man clearing his throat while the woman's expression remained pensive and alert.

"And should he deny it?" prompted Kakashi, one brow arching a perfect curve above his visible eye.

For the first time, Hisoka cracked a hint of a smile and folded his hands in front of him, balancing his chin carefully atop the knuckles.

"It's in your hands, mister..." he trailed, lips pressing to a firm line.

"Hatake," replied the opposition, voice equally as detached.

"Mr. Hatake."

Sakura shifted her weight to her other leg and uncrossed her arms, allowing them to dangle helplessly at her sides despite the curling of her fingers into fists. Observing their exchange did little to ease the workings of her brain.

"What of my partner?" she inquired, breaking the quiet that had reclaimed them with the light tune of her voice.

Hisoka's shoulders lifted in a gracious shrug and his posture straightened into something more dignifying, eyes staring a straight path to Sakura's face.

"I'm sure Natsumi is familiar with some of the male attendants. Get her talking," he replied, each syllable free of doubt and instead filled with a brand of confidence that didn't quite reach his face.

Her subconscious mind groaned - likely at his lack of preparation for Kakashi's presence - though she outwardly gifted him with a strained smile and ducked her torso in a bow before turning on her heel and gesturing for Kakashi with a wave of her hand.

"Thank you, sir. We'll make sure we fulfill the objective," followed her voice, sweet as honey in spite of the dull tick in her chest, and he murmured an incoherent reply.

Seemingly satisfied, Sakura departed from the scene, leaving Kakashi to half-wave at the councilman as an awkward show of thanks before trailing after his favorite kunoichi.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Much of their day had been absorbed by their meet with the councilman and then a routine scout of the city, leaving little time leftover as the afternoon faded quickly into the darkening streaks of night.

Next on their not-so-magnificent list of things to do was sleeping arrangements - Tsunade had provided them with money to pay for temporary room and board at one of the inns, and though neither knew exactly how much she'd granted them, they opted to play on the safe side and aim for something of cheaper value. It'd be more cost efficient, for sure.

They walked the streets in silence, seemingly reverted back to the initial state of mind that had plagued them in the hours prior; Sakura pointed out possible places to stop and Kakashi either grunted disapproval or considered it with a tilt of his chin. It was slow communication, but better than none.

Finally, the stubborn shinobi relented and agreed to the motel she'd chosen, and a sigh of relief fell from her lungs as they stepped inside the dimly lit building. The carpet was a strange shade of taupe, likely a bit darker due to years of accumulated stains, and the walls were blanketed in simple green wallpaper.

It was basic, but would work just fine.

"Good evening," greeted the man at the desk, assessing the pair with skepticism despite the friendly smile painted on his face.

Kakashi nodded, a silent reply of his own sort, and his fingers slid deftly into his pockets to fish for the money that had been entrusted to him. For several seconds, he fiddled around the contents that met his palms til the left had encountered its prize and tugged a wad of bills from the depths of his pants.

The surprise that flitted through his gaze was only momentary, and he swallowed it down with a noiseless inhale and turned his cheek partially to Sakura.

"Not enough for two rooms," delivered the monotony of his voice, nearly as though he were offering a simple acknowledgement. He knew Sakura would be angry. Maybe indifference would save him.

It took a moment for her to reply - perhaps exhaustion had plagued her temper - though she was equally as deadpan when her lungs returned to regular functionality.

"You're kidding me."

The words were free of rage - free of anything, really - and he cocked a brow towards her to display his mild shock.

She rolled her eyes in return, suppressing the urge to slap the haughty expression off his face; instead, she placed one hand on her hip and permitted the beginnings of a scowl to tilt at her mouth.

"I can't believe how incredibly cheap our hokage is," she mused, though her focus had (thankfully) removed itself from the supposed problem and honed onto a type of surrender she'd never really come to know.

She first removed the money from between his fingers, a gentle prying motion with little effort, and then advanced upon the desk, pausing just in front of it and murmuring in low tones with the man behind it. The words were just beyond his range of hearing, and truthfully, he didn't care to listen - sleep was the only thing that weighed on his mind.

Her return brought with it a single key and a diminutive smile, the very same one she'd been offering all day, and he creased his eyes with his own as she turned to pace away once more.

Kakashi's shoulders shifted in a shrug and he watched her carefully, giving naught more than quiet mutters as she passed and made the ascent of the stairs.

Of course, staring like a fool would not aid him, and so he readjusted his bag and followed close behind her, allowing her to lead them to their room while he trailed soundlessly at her heels.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was... well, a cheap room. Extravagance had clearly left the space free of its charm and instead gifted it with the simplicity of a slightly-dirty floor and solid colored bed sheets. Even the walls were simple, reflecting the same dull shade that had met them in the lobby.

The appearance, however distasteful, mattered little to Kakashi - he cared only for the bed.

Wait, the bed.

 _Bed._

Couldn't there have been two?

He swallowed an inward groan and shifted his attention to his female company, schooling his expression from the prior exasperation to a facade composed of a tiny smile.

"I'll take the floor?" he offered lightly, though the joke was not lost on her as she returned with a tired smirk of her own.

 _'Better than yelling. Or hitting.'_

"I wouldn't mind sharing, y'know," she ventured, maneuvering herself away from his side and dropping her bag halfheartedly in the corner of the room. It wasn't like they hadn't shared a bed before - previous missions had often given them less-than-desirable sleeping arrangements, and it wasn't rare for her to find herself tucked beneath the covers with her teammates.

Then again, that was before her ex-teacher had kissed her.

Her teeth pressed gently into her lower lip as she mulled it over, quietly weighing the pros and cons while her hands busied themselves with pulling the blankets down and rearranging the pillows.

Kakashi broke through her reverie with a quiet cough, this time resonating from just behind her, and his hand slithered beyond her arm to hook itself upon one of the pillows.

"You've been sleeping on the ground for three nights," he stated, lips curving with another smile. Wasn't he supposed to be brooding? Damn her. "My advice on beauty rest still remains. I'll take the bed tomorrow."

 _'And maybe you with it,'_ muttered his conscious mind, a thing he stomped out efficiently with a sharp bite to the tongue.

She watched him carefully, gaze flitting over each hardened line in his face before settling to the single charcoal eye that stared back at her. It was mesmerizing how the dull grey shade could pull her in so easily.

After a few more seconds, she ducked her chin in agreement and turned to face the bed, fingers tugging at the comforter before pulling it free and handing it to him.

"Extra warmth," she noted, stepping back and giving another affirmative nod - whether it was to him or herself, she knew not. He returned the gesture with silence, his expression seemingly drawn within his thoughts, til he blinked and gave her a short nod.

"Thanks."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He'd have hoped for the exchange to pass a bit more smoothly, but nothing had ever come easy for the copy-nin - alternatively, they had been cast off track yet again, drifting noiselessly through the tension of their newest dynamic with neither knowing quite what to do.

He knew what he wanted to do. He knew with each quiet thump of his heart what he wanted, what he needed, and what he hoped to show her. But his head disagreed, a violent blur of anger and hate tearing his will asunder, and he was whittled down to nothing but an empty stare as he gazed at Sakura through his half-lidded eye.

Years of build-up had only reached a dead end at the first hint of reciprocation. Frustrated with himself, with his history and with his troubles, he clutched the blanket closer to his chest and coughed quietly.

"We'll do the first part of the mission tomorrow," he pitched as he turned away, reaching to his bag for his trusty sleeping roll while his ears listened intently to the sound of her shifting beneath the covers.

And God, how he wanted to join her.

"Don't leave without me," she cautioned against his back, and while the words met deaf ears - he'd long since fallen to gritting his teeth and sinking beneath the surface of what plagued him - she knew still that he wouldn't leave her alone. Not for a mission catered towards her talents.

With that, she clicked the light off and tucked herself further into the comfort of the bed, leaving Kakashi to sprawl on his back and stare aimlessly at the ceiling.

Sakura's company had faded into what he assumed was slumber, thenceforth replaced only by his dead comrades, and he greeted them with a heavy sigh falling from his lips.

Maybe they'd give him mercy, just this once.

If only he'd known as she laid nearby, enraptured by her own brand of monsters and swallowed indefinitely by a storm of doubt conjured by her hesitant mind in an attempt to understand why exactly her companion had withdrawn and what she'd done to provoke him.

It seemed sleeplessness would plague them both, each for their own reasons, each for their own problems, each for their own silenced misgivings, though all directing towards the core of one another.

Loneliness was a cold disease.


	7. Heart's a Mess

**A/N: Personal issues came up, apologies for the delay once more. This one's for you, guest reviewer.**

 _let me in where only your thoughts have been;_

 _let me occupy your mind as you do mine._

"Mmmffff..." groaned Sakura, rolling onto her back and covering her eyes with her arm.

Yellow sunlight streamed into the little space they occupied, filtered and dulled only by the half-drawn curtains, and she murmured another quiet protest against the brightness that stabbed at her vision.

Her arm slid down and she propped herself up on one elbow, suppressing a yawn and glancing around with careful precision.

A strange type of emptiness had settled over the room, the sort only known to singular company, and though it took her a moment to put the pieces together, she still cursed Kakashi all the same.

Empty bedroll. Looked as though it hadn't even been slept in.

 _Bastard._

She mentally prepared to haul herself out of bed, even slung one leg over the side, though the creak of the door caught her focus and her gaze flashed upwards to meet Kakashi's.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

His expression was blank for but a moment before a slight smile curved a crooked edge at his lips, and he stepped beyond the door and clicked it shut behind him. In one arm lay a tray of food - scrambled eggs, hash browns, a bagel, and orange juice - and the other held a newspaper tucked neatly in the crook of its elbow.

"Good morning," he greeted warmly, pacing forward and pausing just at the bedside.

She had yet to move, frozen in place by his appearance, though only a moment had passed before she narrowed her eyes in the slightest and brought her leg back up to fold it criss-cross with the other.

"I thought you left without me," she accused, a slight pout gracing her features despite the humor that danced through her eyes.

His smile broadened and he placed the newspaper on the nightstand, balancing the tray carefully between each palm while an expression of mock offense overcame his face.

"I wouldn't dream of it. I'm hurt that you'd think so..."

She snorted in reply, turning her cheek and taking to studying the cracks in the ceiling.

He, in turn, cleared his throat to gather her focus again and offered the tray of food her way.

"What's this for?" she inquired, teeth nibbling a slow trail at her bottom lip, though she accepted it with a murmured thanks and rested it in her lap. She was starving, truthfully. Her fingers plucked at the bagel first, tearing small chunks out of it and chewing slowly.

He sat himself on the edge of the bed and reached up to scratch at his head, a nervous habit developed when he wanted to avoid getting into trouble. His eyes creased, lips tilting with a smaller smile, and he leaned back a bit.

"An apology. Sorry-for-yesterday, I suppose. Let's start over?" he replied sheepishly, allowing his hands to fall into his lap while his eye stayed trained on her face.

She was thoughtful for a minute, as though allowing the concept to rattle quietly through her brain, til she broke the blanket of silence with a coy grin and the sharp edge of her voice.

"I'm Sakura Haruno. I like reading and I like cats," she declared, a challenge flashing through the turquoise of her eyes while she took a small bite of her eggs.

Amusement flitted across his own face, something he hoped would be hidden by his mask (civilian clothes did not dictate that he forego his comforts), and he cocked his head sideways. Her sense of humor had always been endearing, a constant hook that had drawn him in from the start of the tangled mess he'd currently found himself in, and while the spark of tension between them had shifted it into a coquettish retort, he still appreciated it nonetheless.

"Cats?" he asked incredulously after a moment, masking his features in a facade of betrayal and jabbing one finger at her thigh. His ninken would be sorely disappointed to hear.

"Don't be such a baby," she chided, swatting his hand away and curling her toes.

"I'm anything but."

"Is toddler acceptable?"

"Don't push me, Sakura-chan."

She stuck her tongue out in a playful gesture and turned her focus back to her meal, the two enjoying the comfortable silence for the time being. A chance to relax was rare and they were certain to absorb every second of it.

He regarded her through a half-lidded stare, sweeping his eye over each angle in her face and memorizing the shape of her bones til the image was burned into his mind. Her gaze flitted up to meet his, and they exchanged a smile, one that connected with the aura between them.

If there were anywhere else to be, he'd have preferred to stay with her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Alright!" she exclaimed, pulling on her second shoe and rising to a stand. She'd hurried to shower after breakfast, anxious that Kakashi would grow restless and proceed without her, and her outfit was in half-disarray - black shorts paired with a mint green sweater and her usual sandals. Underwhelming, but sufficient enough to mix with the crowd.

Her partner had opted not to shed his shirt-and-mask combo, instead layering over it with a deep blue button-down (sleeves folded halfway up each forearm) and dark colored pants. His sandals were replaced with solid black shoes, hardly ideal for the work of shinobi, but plenty so for perusing the streets.

They'd have looked dapper if not for the complaints of discomfort filtering through the silver-haired man's mouth.

Sakura rolled her eyes and leaned back on her heels, bringing one hand up to comb through her pink tresses. They'd need a game plan thenceforth, right?

"How are we going to do this?" she vocalized, keeping each syllable slow and precise lest he miss a word.

His expression was unreadable for a short time, accentuated by the firm line of his mouth behind the dark fabric, til he unfolded his arms from across his chest and tucked one hand into his pocket.

"Well..." he began, tilting back his head and sweeping a slow gaze over the ceiling above. It was a loaded question, really - they'd been given instructions, but fumbled when the time came due to Hisoka's poor planning. _'Maybe all politicians are slow.'_

The fingers of his free hand tapped an idle rhythm against the top of his leg, each thrum in sync with the ticking in his skull, til his tongue uncurled itself and his eyes returned to her face.

"I'm likely better equipped to deal with a woman than you are," continued his voice, slow and hesitant while his stare measured her expression carefully. As expected, her features shifted into agitation and her lips parted to defend herself, but he lifted one hand and silenced her with one finger ghosting over her lips.

"You're plenty talented, Sakura, but I am a man. My methods may prove more effective."

She simply muttered and shooed his hand away with her own, folding her arms and pinning him with an insincere glare.

 _'She won't stay mad. She never does.'_

Clearing his throat, he retracted his hand and instead brought it to the back of his head, resting it open-palmed against the bed of silver hair. "I'll arrive first, bump into her. Show up ten minutes after me and keep your hands and eyes busy. Stay close, listen in."

She seemed to ruminate the notion for a minute before bobbing her chin at a slight incline, indicating for him to continue. "And what will I be listening for, exactly?"

He smiled, creasing his eyes with it for the sake of her amusement. Or irritation. Maybe both.

"Information, Sakura," chimed the tune of his voice, light and teasing to fall in sync with the mirth etched upon his face. She was usually more sharp, more alert without him having to explain or clarify - perhaps something was distracting her?

His eyes lifted to meet her expression, one which had yet to shift from its prior aggravation save for a quirking of one brow, and he inwardly grinned like he'd won the lottery. She was easy to irritate. It was endearing, in a way.

"Sensei, I'm not-"

"Sakura?"

The smolder of her glare pinned itself to his face, but she jerked her chin his way in acknowledgement.

"Please trust me."

She released a sigh, one filtered through the lens of defeat, and her eyes caught the inky depths of his own for the briefest of seconds before she turned, folding her fingers together and popping the joints with an effortless flex of the knuckles.

"Let's get moving," she directed behind her, though her cheek turned slightly and she flashed him a mischievous smile - the type that warranted a slip in his self-control. Luckily, he held firm.

He exhaled slowly and stepped beyond her, resting one hand on the doorknob only to pause yet again to cast a backwards glance at her face.

"By the way," he mused, clicking his tongue quietly against the roof of his mouth.

"I'm not your sensei."

Not another word was uttered before he tugged the door open and stepped out, briskly walking away from the woman and leaving her to peer down the hallway after him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fifteen minutes had passed before Kakashi caught sight of the words he was looking for, scrawled hastily across a dingy sign in front of a small building. It certainly was hidden, and he'd only happened upon it by chance - actual searching had ceased to stop after the tenth minute of doing so, and leisurely strolling down the cobblestone road had led him unknowingly to his destination.

His gaze scanned the sign, then transferred to the window. From what he could see, it was a homely little shop, quaint in design and harboring little traffic save for maybe two customers. Hopefully one is our girl.

Setting his lips into a firm line, he tugged the door open and stepped into the dimly lit area, lifting his eye to meet the warm smile of an employee. He bitterly missed his headband; covering his Sharingan with his hair had long since become an irritation, and he fought a scowl as the grey strands tickled his eyelid.

Instead of brooding, he halfheartedly waved and slipped behind the cover of one of the towering bookshelves. How the hell would he know who he was looking for? It could've been anyone. He cursed Hisoka under his breath and parted the books with one hand, peeking through the gap and scoping out the store.

Two people had been an accurate guess. One, a skinny man with a huge beard, perusing the nonfiction aisle. The other, drawn solely to romance. He felt whittling her appearance down to a few words would do her no justice - she was downright gorgeous, gifted with curves known only to goddesses and eyes blue as the ocean. Her legs were slim, her brown hair hanging in loose curls down her back, and her slender fingers deftly thumbed through the pages of some sappy novel.

It was Thursday, right?

His fingers scratched at the back of his head, eyes skimming her figure carefully from afar - partially for the sake of hopefully confirming her identity, and partially for selfish reasons.

He really was an old pervert.

Hesitation faded from his face and body, replaced by a surge of confidence he'd carried all his life - it suited him, fell in sync with each carefully-placed step and matched the glint in his eyes as he advanced on the woman. Her back was turned, thankfully, and he seized the opportunity to turn the cards in his favor - his fingers curved around the edge of some random book as he passed, and he made it a point to knock into her side 'by accident.' _Yeah, right._

The book flew from his hand and landed with a thud on the floor, followed by a sharp exclamation from behind him.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" chirped the brunette beauty, toned legs bending at the knee as she crouched to retrieve his book for him. Upon returning to full height, she held the book out to him, an apologetic smile gracing her soft features. He'd have noticed it immediately if he hadn't been staring at her chest. By some miracle, he lifted his eyes just in time and returned the smile with a crooked smirk.

"No worries, I should have been paying more attention," he admitted, leaning back and sweeping his eyes over her face.

She laughed - genuinely, too - and the delicate chime had served as a catalyst in broadening his smile. Her gaze flicked down to the cover of the book he'd picked up, Cowboy Back Home, and he inwardly cringed at his subconscious choice.

 _'She probably thinks I'm gay,'_ mourned the voice of his mentality, and for once, he offered silenced agreement with the bitter words.

Even still, she took him by surprise, tracing her finger down the binding of the book and turning the corners of her mouth into another tiny smirk.

"You don't strike me as the type to be reading this genre," she mused, meeting his eyes with her own as his hand finally took the book from her.

Maybe there was hope after all.

"Huh," he returned, slipping one hand into his pocket and inclining his chin towards her. His smile had turned to a devious grin, one that etched itself to his face like a wicked promise, and he arched one brow curiously. "What type do take me for?"

Distantly, his mind registered the twinkle of the bell over the door and the incoming chakra signature he'd come to instantly recognize. Distantly, he took note of her approach, felt her eyes skim between him and their target, and felt her departure to a secluded area for muted observation.

He didn't anticipate she'd be watching, too.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura's arrival was quiet and quick - she offered a small smile to the woman at the desk and breezed by, determined to stay on course lest they screw up. Kakashi's voice, a low murmur echoing between the thick shelves, drew her towards his direction, and she nearly gagged when she saw the woman she was to be impersonating.

 _'Is she even human?'_ hissed her mind, something she silenced quickly with a clench of her teeth. Now wasn't the time. Not while the copy-nin was locked in conversation. Not with the way his hand lingered far too long on her arm.

She sighed and moved behind the cover of one of the bookcases, busying her hands with one of the thick tomes while her ears remained set on their conversation.

"My, Kakashi is a wonderful name," purred the woman, and Sakura grit her teeth as her fingers trailed suggestively up his abdomen. They were in a public place - was she really bold enough to make such a forward move?

Kakashi either didn't notice or didn't care as the devilish smile plastered to his face widened, eyes narrowing dangerously with each flick between her face and her breasts.

"Hardly as beautiful as yours."

Muffled or not, each word acted as another stab in the gut, another justification for her growing irritation. Were she still a young girl, she'd have been upset. Now, she was twenty-three years old, fully aware of it and fully intending to embrace it.

 _'Since when do you get jealous?'_ barked her subconscious mind, each syllable meant to mock.

For once, Sakura opted to ignore it and stepped out from behind the tower of books and into Kakashi's field of vision. Good. Her gaze skimmed the shelf - she knew it was the romance section, and that meant one thing:

 _Icha Icha._

It took a moment to locate the colorful little books amidst the cheesy novels, but she soon picked them out on the bottom, nestled in a group and obscured from view.

A smug smile tainted her features and she bent her torso down to retrieve one, purposefully allowing her fingers to linger and granting her ex-sensei the distraction of her shapely ass. Kunoichi's bodies were always better toned than civilians, and she knew Kakashi would not be ignorant to this.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Whatever shit she was trying to pull, he'd have liked to kill her for it.

Or kiss her.

Or commit some unnamed sin that Tsunade would castrate him for and that Naruto would never forgive.

The feminine tune of Natsumi's words continued to drift through his skull, though none had the opportunity to register - instead, he'd finally managed to rip his stare away from her assets and instead found himself watching Sakura as she confidently strolled into the open and bent down far enough to touch her toes.

For a few brief moments, he'd forgotten exactly what the angles of her body looked like. This served as a reminder. The rounded curves of her ass dwindled down into two long legs, toned and slim and unbelievably sexy, and those little black shorts did miracles in proving this exact point.

Either she was completely stupid, or she'd gone insane.

Did he really care?

He found his answer when his eyes widened at the sight of her book of choice; had he less self-control, he'd have certainly jumped her there and then. It was a deliberate attempt to tease him. He wasn't an idiot.

A sharp sound beckoned to him, a smidgen indignant, and he turned back to his company with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, spaced out for a second there. Tell me more about this party? Have you got a date yet?" he pitched, curving one brow to enhance the charm that glimmered through his stare.

Hopefully, charm overrode the lust he was feeling previously.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Eventually, she tugged at a small purple book, holding it in both hands and studying the vaguely-illustrated cover before clutching it to her chest and strolling away. She felt Kakashi's stare burning into the back of her head and it truthfully boosted her ego.

She smirked at herself and returned to her previous position, settling comfortably into a rickety wooden chair and flicking through the pages of Makeout Paradise as though none of the words stood out.

 _'How the hell does Kakashi read this stuff? And in public?!'_

Her gaze skimmed the few sentences that flitted by, most notably littered with dirty vernacular and suggestive imagery, and she bit her lip - hard - and coughed. Hopefully the blush on her face wasn't too apparent.

With a huff, she snapped the book shut once more and set it aside, instead occupying herself with twiddling her thumbs while her ears remained set on the quiet conversation nearby.

Natsumi seemed empty-headed - grinding information out from her barren skull was far too easy. Putting down women certainly wasn't a habit Sakura had ever made nor was it one she intended to make, but something about the way the woman had previously flaunted her chest at Kakashi had triggered a chain reaction within Sakura's gut.

 _'What about Sasuke?'_ jeered her conscious mind, a hint of malice creeping through the question.

Even still, there was truth evident in the accusation - factually, she'd spent years of her life trying to get Sasuke's attention and heart. When had it faded to the back of her mind?

When had it been replaced by the image of a certain silver-haired man?

Gritting her teeth, she effectively silenced her spinning head and turned her focus back to the shinobi in question - just in time, too, as Natsumi bubbled on about the man she'd invited and the man she'd like to invite instead. She'd even described him, almost as though comparing his face and body to Kakashi's.

Unbelievable.

With a sigh, Sakura lifted herself from her seat and flashed from the bookstore in nanoseconds, returning herself to their motel room and busying herself with picking out another outfit for her evening plans.

Hooking the attention of a complete stranger dictated revealing clothing, right?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dawdling any further on selecting her clothes would have both delayed her arrival at the designated bar (thanks again, Natsumi) and granted her target the opportunity to leave; with only half-haste, she donned a short black skirt and a loose white crop-top before slipping her feet back into her sandals and dragging her fingers through her pink tresses.

She was conflicted on civilian clothes - they were comfortable, though made her feel more vulnerable in comparison to her shinobi garb. When all was said and done, however, they concealed her identity. That was the point, right?

Not another moment was wasted and Sakura quickly left the motel, prowling down the roads with little care nor concern as her gaze scanned the buildings for anything that would identify her destination.

She'd managed to pass a total of three pubs before locating the one that'd been mentioned. Clearly, she was either blind or stupid - a bright sign flaunted its colors proudly outside, a vivid announcement of what lay beyond the thick door. Of course.

Hesitation fluttered through her chest for a moment before her resolve hardened and she pushed through the door, stepping inside and glancing at the patrons - some drunk, some not quite. It wasn't even night yet! Daytime drinkers were undoubtedly the worst brand.

She suppressed an involuntary shiver nonetheless and prowled forward on long legs, careful to monitor the sway of her hips lest her target be watching. As luck would have it, he was, and he was equally as clueless a fool as Natsumi was. It was no wonder they'd paired up. She took note of him from the corner of her eye as she paused at the bar, sliding into a stool and meeting the eyes of the bartender.

"Mojito, extra lime, please," ordered the tune of her voice, and the man nodded and began to prepare her drink. Meanwhile, her prey had turned predator and began his stalk towards her, confidence oozing from every orifice as though he had room to harbor any. Amazing.

He stood beside her for a moment, almost as though debating on whether or not to sit, before settling on the latter and lowering his rear down noiselessly. His gaze shifted sideways, capturing her own, and she granted him with a smile both sweet and poisonous. Thankfully, he only detected the first ingredient.

"What's a pretty lady doing in this part of the city?" he delivered, the sound dark and gravelly as though he hadn't spoken in years. Nothing like Kakashi's voice.

 _'Sasuke's, you mean,'_ her subconscious mind corrected.

She bit her lip - hard - and managed to produce a small laugh, accentuating it with a fake blush and turning her cheek from him.

"Same reason as you, unless you have ulterior motives?" she teased in return, arching a brow curiously. The bartender returned with her drink and passed it off to her - she, in turn, accepted it with a murmured thanks and lifted the glass to her lips.

While it felt good to flirt casually, something constrictive tightened around her throat like a vice, preventing her from truly filling the role of casual civilian. Maybe it was the glint in her company's eyes. Maybe it was the way his hair wasn't quite the shade she longed to see.

Forcing another smile, she honed back into focus in time to catch his next sentence.

He shifted himself in his seat and glanced between her drink and her face, seemingly absorbed in the way her lips parted and met the cool surface of the glass, til the rational part of his primitive mind kicked into gear and prompted further socialization.

"My motives are pure," he returned with mock offense, raising his hands innocently despite the way his gaze raked across her body.

Were all men the same?

A bout of laughter befell her lips, the sound similar to the chime of bells, and she lifted one hand to sweep a few pink strands of hair from her face.

"I'll only believe you when you tell me your name."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

This woman may have looked heavenly, but listening to her talk was giving him a migraine.

Aside from having absolutely no filter on her mouth, she seemed to prattle on about whatever popped into her pretty little head - and ninety percent of the content was sexual innuendos.

Not that he minded, but it wasn't something he had any intent to act on.

A sigh befell his lips and he raked his hand through his hair, fixing Natsumi with a tight-lipped smile as she told him about a bra she'd purchased. They'd left the bookstore not long after Sakura''s chakra signature disappeared, both headed towards the nearest bar on Kakashi's suggestion of 'grabbing drinks and getting to know each other a bit better.'

He was almost bored with the current objective, bored as they located the previously mentioned bar, bored as he held the door for her, and bored as they found a table and settled into light conversation.

Bored, really, til he brought his eyes from Natsumi and instead found them resting on a far-too-familiar pinkette, dressed with the intent to be eaten and laughing coquettishly at some distant joke.

When the hell did she get here?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The banter between them, however light, held an edge of sexual tension contributed only by one party. He seemed to be thinking less with his head and more with his... well, _head._ Sakura coughed quietly to clear the thought and returned another shy smile to him, allowing her hand to drift beneath the table and rest suggestively on his knee.

"So, Makoto, do you talk up every woman or am I just special?" she pried gently, the chords of her voice delivering the words smoothly and without effort. She knew the truth - she knew there was nothing spectacular that had drawn his focus except for the shape of her body, but staying in character was key and she'd be damned to screw it up.

"My, my," he murmured, leaning forward and peering into the turquoise depths of her eyes. "It's not often someone like you passes through. Call it a seized opportunity."

All the while, his own hand had slithered forward to return the gesture of hers, fingers trailing careful circles along the length of her thigh and gifting her with goosebumps. She didn't like being touched. She especially didn't like being touched by some greasy guy in a bar.

Nonetheless, she forced a smile and a laugh and allowed the talent of being a woman to take over.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Kakashi?" broke the voice of his companion, yet again annoyed by his lack of focus. It was a miracle she was attentive enough to even notice.

He broke his stare from where Sakura and Makoto flirted back and forth, returning his eyes to Natsumi, though there was no erasing the hardened gleam that shot like lightening through the pit of charcoal in his gaze. There was no disguising the carnal ache in his chest or the territorial instinct to kill the competition and mark what was rightfully his.

Just as there was no justifying it.

He cleared his throat and fixed the girl with a dangerous smile, a slight curve of the lips behind the thin layer of fabric of his mask. She seemed content with this, enraptured even, and she leaned forward to return the smile while his mind fought to conjure quick plans.

"I've got a motel room nearby. Let's get out of here."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dealing with Natsumi came effortlessly in the form of genjutsu; it was true he returned to their motel, but had instead rented the room next to them - using money out of pocket no thanks to their Hokage - and slipped inside. Once there, he granted her the false pretense of drunk sex and sleep.

She was under his command and would stay asleep til his return - or so he hoped - and all that was left was to return to Sakura lest the greedy bastard with her decide to get too comfortable. Not to imply he hadn't yet, but Kakashi would sooner break his wrist than let it go.

Watching Sakura tempt him first with Icha Icha and then - perhaps unintentionally - with her outfit and her situation had been enough to give a lapse in his self control. The primal side of him, the side that was more animal than man, was nearly ripping itself apart in an attempt to stay sane. How he'd managed to maintain distance for this long was an absolute miracle.

His return to the bar was swift, almost as though he never left, and he took the chance to advance on Sakura from behind, basking in the delight of watching Makoto's eyes widen and then narrow. Upon arrival, his hand came to rest on Sakura's shoulder, almost a way of claiming his territory, and he creased his eyes with a smile while posing a question certain to rile up either one or both of them.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura's other hand rested gently atop Makoto's, almost as though it belonged there, and her lips curved into a delicate smile that spoke tales only of silenced promises.

"Quite a bit of charm," she remarked, and he returned her smile with one of his own while leaning forward even more. Arrogance permeated from his being like a thick cloud, one she'd have choked on if not for the voice in her head maintaining clarity and reason.

"There's more where that came from."

His chin tilted and he pressed forward still, and only a heartbeat had passed before pause had come in the form of an interruption - more specifically, another hand on her shoulder, squeezing it possessively while the eyes of her target darted upwards.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She hadn't anticipated his approach. Hell, she hadn't even anticipated any contact between them til morning, yet here he was. casual as ever while her heart thumped an erratic beat she had only grown to know through his company.

Rather than fall out of character, she chuckled and turned her cheek slightly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye while Makoto sputtered irritably.

"Do you mind?" ground out the man, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. To this, Kakashi chuckled and slid into the seat on Sakura's other side, folding his hands neatly on top of the bar while his dark eyes met her bright ones.

"I'm sure she doesn't," he returned smoothly, further boiling the blood of Sakura's target while earning a quiet cough from her.

Whether she was annoyed or not, it didn't matter. Two combined stunts were plenty in order to provoke him, and he was beyond the point of provocation. His fingers slid into his pocket to momentarily thumb through its contents before pulling out a few bills and pushing them across the counter to pay for her next drink.

Surprise etched itself across her face - she evidently didn't think he was serious - and she was quick to recover and flash a charming grin his way while her hand lifted from Makoto's leg and instead trailed suggestively down the length of Kakashi's arm.

Staying in character or not, she knew what she was doing.

"Thanks, I owe you," she chimed, accentuating the light tune with a wink before turning back to the other man.

Whatever promise he made himself earlier had certainly shattered.

Clearing his throat, he lifted himself from his seat and leaned towards her, bending his torso and pressing his lips to the outer shell of her ear.

"Be quick, please."

With that, he straightened and turned away, stepping beyond the bodies that had filled the room and disappearing out the door.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

His words, warm and dark in contrast with the situation, echoed ceaselessly through her skull like the toll of a bell. Moreso, the sensation of his breath fanning across her neck was not something she could quickly forget. She instead watched his departure, mesmerized by the fading sight of his backside til Makoto's voice interrupted.

"What a jackass," he snorted, agitation evident in both tone and body language. He was likely unnerved - in terms of looks, he didn't stand a chance against Kakashi.

Sakura smiled sweetly and rose from her seat, grabbing his hand with firm intent and flashing her eyes his way.

"Let's go be alone somewhere," she suggested, and he all too happily complied in allowing her to lead the way. Thankfully they'd developed their plan beforehand, so she knew what to do and where to go. It took mere minutes to arrive back at the motel and even less time to enter the room, though executing the genjutsu before he caught sight of the other woman was the tricky part.

His eyes caught Natsumi's sleeping form immediately, and they darted from her to Sakura with a growing panic behind their depths.

"Is that Natsumi? What the hell did you do to my date?!" he shouted, stepping forward with malice lacing his tone while both hands curled into a fist. Did he realy think he'd stand a chance?

Staying in character sure was a pain.

Sighing quietly, she quickly performed the genjutsu and had him asleep almost instantaneously, resting him beside Natsumi and casting one final glance on the pair.

A match made in Heaven, really, if their traits were anything to go by.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Considering the rooms were next to each other, the walk back to her own was only a few steps, and she was delighted to find that the door was left unlocked. _'Thanks, Kakashi.'_

Silence met her ears as she stepped inside, and it only stretched further as she clicked the door shut behind her and allowed her gaze to roam. Silent _and_ empty, it seemed. Hardly the chance to call out had come before she, too, was effectively silenced - not by her own means, but by the means of another body pushing her back against the wall and swallowing any sounds with a forceful kiss.

 _Kakashi._

It wasn't too surprising that she failed to detect him - he was the elusive copy-nin, after all - but moreover was the fact that his unmasked lips were shifting fluidly in sync with hers while his hands traveled hungrily along the expanse of her abdomen, sliding easily beneath the sheer cotton shirt and trailing gently across the flesh of her stomach.

This wasn't normal, right?

God, she wished it was.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He didn't want to strip her of her innocence. He didn't want to force himself on her nor did he want to reveal the contents of his heart in the form of physical intimacy. But had he any choice, he'd have backed out.

Miraculously, any chance to object was thrown astray as soon as her tongue slid carefully along the edge of his lower lip.

Resistance was futile the moment he took note of her current state - he wasn't forcing himself on her, but rather, she was reciprocating with near-equal fervor. Maybe he was wrong all along. Maybe there was hope.

Either way, thinking it through was hardly an option while his mind was clouded with images of his favorite kunoichi bent double with his cock stuffed behind her.

He growled and bit her lip, grazing his hands up further and dragging his fingers along the underside of her breasts. She shivered beneath his touch, seemingly compliant with each small gesture, and he tested the water by repeating the motion and skimming his thumbs over the firm swell of both breasts.

This time, a small moan escaped from between her lips, muffled only by his mouth, and he swallowed his own sound of pleasure as her hand finally found the courage to trail downwards, palm rubbing tantalizing circles across his now-hardened groin.

He was going to lose it. He was going to completely snap and reach the point of no return.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Whatever change had erupted within their dynamic was something she had no place to object to, even if some foreign part of her mind was screaming rationally about the rights and wrongs.

Like how kissing your ex-sensei was wrong.

Like how playing with your ex sensei's erection was wrong.

Like how trailing your fingers along the sensitive tip of your ex sensei's erection and making him groan was... well, wrong.

But it felt too right to stop, too right to surrender to logic and throw in the towel and walk away.

And so she didn't. She took simple comfort in the friction between their bodies and the steady build of sexual tension. She allowed the salacious vibe to carry her through and she bade farewell to her sensible mind as Kakashi's tongue dragged across her teeth and one of his hands gripped her ass and his heartbeat thrummed in sync with her own as though nothing else in the world mattered.

And maybe it didn't.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He was fourteen years her senior. He devoted part of his life to raising her as a shinobi. He comforted her when she cried.

And now he was heavily considering fucking her against the wall of a motel he didn't even know the name of.

One hand shifted down and slipped down beyond the hem of her skirt, pausing barely an inch away from the barren area where hair would be - she made a habit of shaving, and he took a moment to mentally thank her for it before dipping in a further descent and gently dragging his index finger along the sensitive nub of her clitoris.

If his previous actions were enough to elicit a response, his previously executed had certainly done the trick - she arched her back into his hand while her own curled tightly around the width of his member through the fabric of his pants. A sharp gasp lifted from her lungs in sync with the motion, and he once again followed with a grunt of his own.

 _'Self-control, Kakashi. Know your boundaries.'_

By some spectacular measure of restraint, he'd managed to pause his ministrations - more specifically, the lazy motions of his finger against the most responsive part of her body - and his face pulled from hers to allow him to stare into her eyes.

Onyx and crimson against twin teal, they both gazed wide-eyed with nothing but heavy panting to fill the quiet between them, a sharp reminder of what had just transpired and of what very well could continue should they continue to spiral downwards. Luckily, Kakashi was not a man wholly without sense.

A smile crossed his features, one returned by a tiny one of her own, and he slumped his body against hers, burying his face in the crook of her neck and exhaling slowly to relieve the accumulated pressure in his chest.

"I don't remember teaching you that."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She was certain to lose her grip on reality when he'd further pressed their sexual contact, though his retraction had brought first a momentary shock and then a sigh from her lips. Her heart felt like it would stop any moment - its pulse was certainly far too quick - and it only faltered as Kakashi's head fell against her shoulder.

She expected him to pull away, say something cold, and leave it at that. Instead, he'd done the opposite.

She couldn't help but grin and reach up to tangle her fingers in his hair, stroking the back of his head and wrinkling her nose playfully.

"Clearly skipped some material, Kakashi-sensei," she jeered, earning another sharp growl from him as his head lifted slightly.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" he muttered, teeth grazing across the sensitive flesh of her neck and bringing pause to her plan. Wasn't there a saying about poking the bear?

Rather than push it, she merely surrendered with a quiet hum, and he, in turn, pulled his body apart from hers and raised one hand to scratch sheepishly at his head.

A moment of pause had stretched between them, one accompanied by her staring wide-eyed at his face and him quirking a brow in confusion.

"Kakashi..." she cautioned, stepping forward and flitting her gaze across each angle on his face, each curve of bone and minor detail, while realization dawned on the older man like the plague itself.

He'd forgotten that his mask was still down, and he'd forgotten to cover his face again after their session had ended. Hastily, he shifted his hand from his head to cover his mouth and nose, though he knew it was too late. She'd seen it all.

"Any chance I can pay you to forget what you saw?" he asked, pinning his eyes to hers as though being stern would work.

She huffed and turned away, though a smile had long since tilted at her lips - warmth followed suit in filling her chest, and she curled her fingers into her palms to fight the elation that swam through her veins.

"Not a chance, old man."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He'd always known her to be headstrong and reserved - maybe not socially, but at least sexually. To relegate their encounter to nothing more than casual conversation was surprising.

 _'She's not thirteen anymore,'_ chided his subconscious mind, and he nodded his chin in agreement while her words buzzed on in the background.

One thing that hadn't changed was her impatience with poor listeners. Dealing with him and Naruto had worn her thin.

He rolled his shoulders back to relieve the tension on his muscles, turning away from the girl as she gave her response and glancing back only once to flash a grin.

"Maybe you'll change your mind. I'm going to go take a cold shower."

With that, he departed the scene, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door quietly behind him. His back leaned against the wooden structure and he slid to the floor, burying his face in his hands while a muffled groan escaped his lips.

He was an idiot for initiating on short patience and an idiot for interfering when he'd sworn to keep his distance. It wasn't how it was supposed to play out.

Self-loathing replaced the previous high as he stepped beneath the cool spray of water, allowing the chill to numb both his mind and his body.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It seemed the unexpected had come ceaselessly for the pinkette - first was Kakashi's hands on her body and then was a glimpse of his face, something she and her team had been trying to see ever since they were genin. Almost dumbly, she stared at him as though memorizing each line til he caught wind of the issue and quickly covered himself and left.

She continued to stand, watching the bathroom door absentmindedly and mulling over the previous events in her head. She wanted it to feel like a betrayal to Sasuke for the sake of not giving up, but every cell in her body opposed the notion - something about the away their bodies melted together meant far more to her than her childhood crush.

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and mechanically maneuvered towards the bed, pulling back the blankets and sliding beneath their warm cover in an attempt to shield herself from the problems of reality.

Her previous conjecture on whatever had changed in Kakashi had only intensified, this time falling in beat with her own personal change, and she laid her eyes on the cracked ceiling above as though the answers would be written in each small crevice.

Maybe it wasn't a bad change.

Whichever, she could only hope to untangle her feelings soon. The emotion was unfamiliar to her, but the heat in her veins spoke more than simple arousal. Rather than allow it to trouble her, she merely rolled over and forced her eyes shut, attempting to at least fall into a doze as the shower turned off, as Kakashi returned and set up his bedroll, as he slid beneath the cover of his own blankets and rolled over without a word, as her chest tightened with disappointment at his disregard.

Some things would never change.


	8. Gravity

_i've been thinking that i think too much,_

 _and i can't sleep, but i can dream of us._

The days had come to pass in a blur of color and sound, accentuated only by the occasional lift and descent of the sun in the sky. Nights were equally as brief, and the tension between the shinobi lingered heavily upon them in the darkest hours.

Tonight was no exception, nor did either expect it to be - their hours of scouting the missive and developing their plan had finally come to blossom at the peak of the assigned task; the masquerade had, at last, broached the horizon.

A particular sort of dread clamored its restless wail through Sakura's skull as she busied herself with getting ready - or moreover, with waiting for _someone else_ to get ready. Kakashi had been absent from view for over an hour, occupying the bathroom and bringing more than a few curses from her lips, though she was quietly grateful that she'd opted to shower before him.

The upperhand manifested in her outfit, a midnight black dress impeccably draped around her slender frame and paired with a neutral pink lipstick. Her shoes were the same shade of darkness, stilettos heightened by the heels, while her hair displayed itself in a loose bun. It was a mix of casual and professional, loose enough to suggest more than what met the eye but firm enough to match whatever formalities lay ahead.

Resignation filtered through her lungs in the form of a sigh, and she collapsed in one of the two armchairs that sat in their motel room. Her fingers folded gently together on top of one of the plush ends and she cast the sharp turquoise of her gaze to the window, to the ink-streaked sky that loomed over Tawasaki in the company of only the stars and the moon.

The world was infinite from this perspective, crushing her problems and insecurities and brushing them aside.

Maybe things would go back to normal when the mission ended.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He blinked. His reflection blinked. A perfect duplication, physically; Kakashi lifted his hand to test the theory, fingers pressing gingerly against the hard surface of the mirror while one eye peered curiously into that of his image. It was him. He couldn't believe it, but it was.

Why, then, did he doubt himself?

Why build bridges only to burn them? Why swim the ocean only to drown?

His frustration coupled perfectly with his confusion and his hand dropped limply from the glass, landing with a muted thud against the porcelain sink - a luxury they lacked in Konoha, he managed to notice through his haze.

Wasted efforts were wasted time, wasted opportunities. Each step forward was rewarded with another stab in the gut. He was an idiot to fall in love.

 _'Is that what this is?'_

He set his jaw into a firm line and straightened his posture, coughing once into his fist and turning away from the haggard reflection of himself.

 _'It's whatever I want it to be,'_ he silently returned as he tugged the door open, stepping back into the main room, this time in a suit-and-tie combination.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Had there been a clock on the wall, Sakura was sure its incessant ticking would have driven her mad. The minutes etched themselves into eternity as time stretched onwards, and before she could fully consider breaking down the bathroom door, the telltale sound of the knob turning dragged her back into focus.

Whatever she'd been anticipating, it hadn't been the image laid out before her. Sure, he was due to dress up - the occasion called for it, after all - but somewhere along the line, she'd forgotten to prepare herself for it. She'd only ever seen Kakashi in his usual jonin gear - the green flak jacket, the loose black pants. Even civilian clothes, simple as they were, had little impact on her.

The dapper ensemble he wore was vastly different in comparison, enough to pause the tapping of her fingers against the chair and pull her gaze from the lunar display outside.

For the first time (or maybe not, but she would never disclose that), she was actually seeing Kakashi in the light of, well.. An adult. A male one, at that. The events of several evenings prior had come as an abrupt surprise, seizing the opportunity to truly allow herself to acknowledge both his age and gender. Now, she was stuck.

Her eyes flitted from the hardened lines of his biceps to the slight ripple of his abdominal muscles as he shifted to adjust the jacket of his suit. Did he always look like this? So.. rugged, handsome? _Ruggedly handsome!_ A tiny victory in her mind, but nothing to stop her from drawing her lower lip between her teeth and nibbling the pink flesh as her stare roved his body shamelessly.

Perhaps if she had been paying more attention, the action would have been a bit more veiled. But she was careless, and when his voice broke her from her trance, she nearly caught fire from embarrassment.

"Like what you see, Sakura-chan?" he inquired, his voice light with a teasing tone but an octave deeper than its usual level.

She swallowed hard, her face flushing red, and both hands shot out to wave frantically in denial. "No, no! I... your..." she stammered, blinking rapidly and fighting the pit in her stomach. "Your suit is a nice color. That's all."

Success! Or so she hoped. _'Was that the best you could come up with?'_ snapped her subconscious mind, something she agreed with as the heat refused to leave her veins. She was a moron.

The mischievous glint never left his gaze, though he seemingly (thankfully) accepted the excuse and stuffed one hand into his pocket. "If you insist, though I don't blame you otherwise. I am rather attractive," he soon returned, tongue curling to press to his teeth in a futile attempt to fight the smirk that touched his features.

Her embarrassment was quickly replaced with frustration, and if not for the high heels she was currently wearing, she'd have lunged at him and pummeled him senseless. Instead, she settled for snorting and turning her cheek, taking to studying the peeling wallpaper instead. "Old pervert.." she muttered under her breath, huffing with the escape of the words.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

His resolve had been found as soon as he returned to the small space of their motel, ultimately catching sight of his ex-student and, without realizing it, losing his grip on the misery that had plagued him in the days prior. All thoughts of self-hatred and regret had quickly dissolved immediately upon resting the darkness of his gaze on Sakura's idle form.

'Beautiful' was a word that he felt undermined exactly what was presented to him. Even effortlessly, she had captured the essence of a radiant sort of beauty that many strove to achieve. In her current attire, the effect was only intensified.

The breath in his lungs escaped in one silent exhale as her bright eyes shifted from the sky to his face, his body, the angles of his bones and the areas where his clothing had clung to outline particular parts of himself.

He couldn't help but tease her. The tension between them sizzled like an open fire, ready to spread and burn them alive, and diffusing it had been his only hope if he wanted to escape unscathed. The jovial tune of his voice, gentle and smooth, maintained a predatory edge, the same sort he'd carried in the past, and he took pleasure in watching her embarrassment as he prodded at her.

Silence enveloped them once more as the moment had dissipated, returning them yet again to the hands of of a stiff atmosphere where neither would fully acknowledge the other. It was a strange aura that swallowed them, one that beckoned to him like a siren's call, and he wondered silently if she felt the same. It was a foolish notion - he'd have been surprised if she didn't hate him yet - but it was one he entertained nonetheless.

Hardly the opportune to proceed with the night had come before the leash on his self-control had slipped free; his tongue worked of its own accord, acting outside of the command of his mind, and it curved gracefully to deliver five words on the wings of a sort of confidence he hadn't outwardly known.

"May I have this dance?"

There was no music. The environment was hardly suitable for the act - dirty walls and an even dirtier carpet, punctuated by the sound of distant crickets and the drizzle of rain outside, yet hope lingered in his chest as he held his hand out to the now wide-eyed woman and offered a small smile.

He wouldn't have stopped himself even if he wanted to.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Surprise marred her expression as she yet again found her eyes straying from whatever occupied her attention and resting on the half-obscured face of her once-upon-a-time teacher. The soft curve of his lips had sunk its hooks into her soul, accompanied by the warmth that flooded his gaze, and she soon found herself nodding mutely and rising from her seat to rest her palm gingerly unto his.

It was a hand she'd touched millions of times before, through casual encounters and insignificant touches, yet in light of their recent interactions, it felt strangely foreign. Firm, yet soft. Slightly calloused. Larger than her own, dwarfing her slender fingers as his curled around them and pulled her body closer to his.

Her lips parted subconsciously and she cast her eyes to his face, meeting his stare with a brief surge of confidence, and her hand slid from his grasp to join the other in draping around his shoulders.

His hands replied equally, trailing down to rest gently at her waist, and their eyes met once more as to affirm the situation.

Even still, Sakura witnessed it all through a haze that clouded her mind; her body swayed gently with his as they slowly shifted into sync, but her brain busied itself with wondering when Kakashi had stopped being a distant figure to guide her and became the man that currently embraced her

It was a battle she felt she'd never win. Idle pondering was all she could do.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hesitation dictated both his and her movements, and it weighed on him like a thousand bricks to see how his misgivings with himself had altered their dynamic. Beating himself up over it would bring no mercy, however, and he instead honed into the same mood he'd been carrying just moments before and placed his focus on the pinkette in front of him.

His arms slipped further around her waist, joined by both hands at the small of her back, and he felt his chest tighten as her chin came to rest on his shoulder. How had it come this far?

 _'Just a dance,'_ berated his subconscious mind.

Shifting his weight carefully, he allowed his feet to fall in sync with each minute movement of hers, quickly claiming the rhythm of their slow steps and aligning them to a muted melody known only to the recesses of his mind. Rain splashed ceaselessly against the cobblestone streets outside, a muffled echo of background static that quelled the buzz in his head.

 _How had it come this far?_

Had they regressed like he thought, or was it a step forward?

With his recent behavior, he was certain for the latter.

Her voice broke through his trance, a light pitch of sound to contrast the shadows of his thoughts, and he maintained stoicism throughout as the words fluttered through his ears like a death sentence.

"I feel like I'm betraying Sasuke."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The light provided by the corner lamp was dim at best, as was expected of an oil based tool - the fire burned away at an agonizing pace, illuminating the area in a soft orange glow and casting austere shadows against the length of the walls. It was a shitty motel room, but a little less shitty with good company.

Sakura's hands fiddled nervously with one another behind Kakashi's neck, both arms propped loosely around his shoulders while his hands lingered feather-light on her hips. They swayed to a beat that didn't exist, one that merely synchronized in their heads with each contraction of their muscles - it was serene, really.

She chanced a look at his face, half-covered by his signature mask, and took a long moment to study the structure, the hard line of his jaw, the curve of his nose, the edge of his cheekbones, and a single eye of coal that she quickly found herself drowning in.

Still, guilt lingered like a plague in the back of her head, gnawing away at any inkling of happiness and forcing her focus away from what was important and unto the very same thing she spent half of her life dwelling on.

Before she could stop herself, the words had escaped, poised as a hesitant question as though she were a little girl again. She certainly felt like one. Old habits die hard - figuring out the issue was key, and she couldn't dance forever in the arms of another man, metaphorically and otherwise. Not while her judgement was clouded. Not while she struggled to maintain supposed loyalty.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He couldn't allow the ministrations of his bruised heart to lash out - not while doubt marked her features, not while a hint of fear glimmered through her eyes at the confusion that thrummed in her chest like the beating of wings. She had opened up to him, at least, and whether or not he would guide her towards the right answer was up to him and him alone.

Leaving her in the dark wasn't fair, though. He could suffer in the end if it meant giving her an inkling of clarity.

Clearing his throat, he pulled back a bit and settled the onyx of his gaze into the teal of her own, fixing his mouth to a firm line as his hold on her hips loosened and allowed him to step back several paces. As much as he hated to do so, he preferred the gap for the time being.

"Look at your situation, Sakura," he stated quietly, turning his hands over to face open-palmed in a small gesture for emphasis. "You've pined after him all of this time to be rewarded with pain. You can't betray someone who already betrays you daily."

It was a bit more than the subtle reassurance she'd likely been seeking, but there was no way of knowing exactly what she wanted to hear. It was a chance to be firm, to let her know of all that she'd been oblivious to, and he held full intent of utilizing it.

As expected, she grew quiet, not daring to speak as her mind worked overtime to process the words she hadn't heard til now. Nobody had really been straightforward about it - Naruto had gotten close, but he was far too kind to hurt Sakura's feelings, and the idea of his best friends being romantically involved was something he'd come to know as reality long ago. Fighting it was useless, even if Sasuke did not reciprocate.

Kakashi inhaled slowly and slid his hands to his pockets, balling his fingers into fists as he studied her face. Nonetheless, he couldn't stop. Reality may have been cruel in her world, but being blind to it would do her no good.

"Do you love a man who tried to kill you?" he inquired, tone as simple as asking for a glass of water - there was nothing but impassivity in both his throat and his face, and he knew she took notice of it as her wide-eyed gaze met his charcoal one. Even still, he continued, this time with a step towards her to lessen the distance he'd created just a moment ago.

"Do you love a man who, despite all of your previous pleads and efforts to bring him home, made an attempt on your life?"

He hated to corner her, hated to force her into another perspective, but what lay inside beyond her view had to be brought to light. She was not aware of the truth, but its steady beat thrummed noiselessly in the back of her mind, dubiously labeled as something it simply was not.

"Do you love a man who continued to demean you even after his return? Whose verbal abuse, the acts of a petty child, carried into adulthood and plagued you up til now?"

He was now less than a foot away from her, expression solemn and eyes set straight into hers while his hands remained in his pockets - maybe it granted a sense of security, maybe it prevented him from wrapping his arms around her shoulders as the tears had finally spilled over. He didn't know. He didn't want to know. But he couldn't stop.

A quiet sigh fell from his lips and his gaze averted to the floor, assessing the textured pattern of the carpet as though it held the secret to making this work - and surely it didn't - til he lifted both eyes once more to her face and softened the edges of his features.

"Are you capable of loving him, Sakura? I don't think you have been for a long while. Longer than you think."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Everything in her head and her heart had reached a standstill - gradually at first, and then all at once. She'd always known Kakashi to be straightforward, but to be on the receiving end had gifted her with a new perspective she likely wouldn't have ever known were the circumstances different.

Was it pity that provoked him? Was he ashamed of her? Perhaps the makings of a hopeful heart had manifested instead as desperation, cluelessness. Ignorance. Perhaps it wasn't hopeful at all.

She shifted her posture slightly as her brain processed each word, each sentence, each little bit of truth that departed from his lips. Her emotions knew not what to do with the information nor how to react - of course, autonomously, denial seemed befitting.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, chin cocked up to catch the full view of what little of his face was on display, and her fingers curled into fists with a new surge of anger burning through her veins. Her self-control had shattered, and in its place manifested a defensive sort of fury in the form of her palm striking hard across his face.

He hadn't even changed his facial expression - devoid of emotion, of any sort of reaction, he took the slap as though it hardly bothered him. With her strength, she knew it had, but her mind would not allow guilt to seep through as words finally fell from her lips.

"You preach about love as though you have a clue," she ground out, each word more harsh than the last. Maybe he did have a clue. Rationally, her head didn't allow that to be considered.

He seemed resigned to his fate - stoicism reclaimed his features, a strange sort of patience lining the rigid edges of his body as he awaited what was to come. She took this as a sign to continue, not that anything else would stop her, and she raised her hand to point a finger towards him.

"I make my own decisions, Kakashi- _sensei_. Not you."

Poison held tightly to each syllable as though the remarks were branded by the devil himself; scathing words were all she could offer as part of her rejected all that he said. The other part was consumed entirely. Rather than stick around, she instead offered him one last stiff glare and immediately brushed past him in several short strides, exiting the motel room and slamming the door behind her.

He would not stand witness to the fresh tears that now slid down her face. Weakness was vulnerability. Sadness was a danger she couldn't afford.

Pain seemed to be a pattern she didn't care to grow familiar with.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ignorance to it granted her the opportunity to avoid watching the remnants of Kakashi's reaction - the crumbling of his composure as she departed, the angry clench of his teeth, the weakness in his legs as he collapsed to his knees and stared dumbly at the door in the vague hope of her reappearing.

She wouldn't, he knew. But rewinding and erasing their final moments seemed to be all he could pray for.

His heart felt fractured, his head felt foggy, and his face hurt. The masquerade lay in wait, the minutes ticking by as a reminder that he was now late.

Being late never bothered him before. It wouldn't bother him now. Not while he was attempting to recover. Not while he sat half-slumped on the grimy floor, a pathetic image of a renowned shinobi whittled down to naught more than a timeless rhythm of being hurt over and over again.

His love was like a ghost, haunting him alongside the dead souls in his mind, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was what he deserved.

The rain slowed to a melancholy drizzle that hit the pavement with tiny bursts of sound, a gentle chorus of droplets showered down into the blackness of the night.

Remorse really was his only friend.


End file.
